Pressed Lemons
by The Accident-Prone Klutz
Summary: She doesn't even deserve my acknowledgement. I don't take well to liars. I don't approve of fake gestures or accept 'polite smiles'. And I sure as hell don't tolerate being sorely dumped. AU. N/K. R/N.
1. Prologue

**I can't - what the hell am I doing? This isn't good. Starting new stories. No. That's really not good at all. -.-'**

**I couldn't resist. NamiKai, it's a pairing that must be acknowledged more. Come on, where have all the yuri writers gone?**

**Pairings: **Namine/Kairi, Namine/Roxas, Sora/Kairi

**Rating: **T+ (For quite a bit of profanity and then some)**  
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**Prologue  
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I've been sitting here in this same spot, eyes glued to the computer screen for over half an hour. The small black words, read like billboards. They burn into the rims of my eyes. I'm not sure if it's staring unblinkingly at the screen that's causing my eyes to water, or the actual statement. I don't ponder on it, considering this disaster is occupying my thought process.

It's at this moment I officially hate _Facebook_. Not that I didn't hold any ill-will for this particular social network prior to the newfound hate. All the time-line shit and stupid apps they've been trying to shove down my throat were contributing factors to the hate. But those were tolerable. At least it wasn't _this_.

My eyes reread the notification on the newsfeed, absorbing the names, and each word. I don't exactly know why I've been staring at it for this long. Perhaps, my poor melted mass-induced brain believes that the words will magically alter this supposed error appearing on my laptop screen.

**Kairi Lockhart** went from being "_single_" to "_in a relationship_".

_Facebook_ is the epitome of shittiness and stupidity and… and just _stupid_. My fingers scratch the smooth keyboard of the computer, as I finally let my eyes tear away from the statement. I don't even count the number of likes that are already forming beneath that headline news.

This is stupid. It's so stupid I'm tempted to log into my Myspace account that I've lied about deleting, because apparently that's the most embarrassing thing in the world to have. At least _Myspace_ wouldn't have screamed this calamity ON MY HOMEPAGE!

My hand moves over the mouse pad. I tell myself to log out, and not to troll around little miss perfect's profile because that's just pathetic. But a few seconds in, I don't even realize what I'm doing until I'm seeing said girl's face smiling at me. Stupid pictures. Stupid likes. Stupid Facebook.

And then I see my own face smiling back at me, reeking of deception of my current feelings. The stupid girl doesn't even have the decency to get rid of this disgusting proof of what we once were. I'm smiling, my arm interlocked with… _hers_. She's looking at me and the sight makes me want to yell at my computer. Idiot, as if she were really there. I fidget in my seat, nearly chucking the laptop in the process.

Instead, I exit out of her albums, disgruntled by the fact that she still has a fucking album called Me _and My Bestie_. I scoff. We were _hardly_ besties. I move the mouse towards the logout box, but something catches my eye.

**Kairi Lockhart** is now in a relationship with **Sora Highwind**.

"_Motherfu_-"

"-Naminé, dear are you out of the shower yet?" The sound of my mom's voice coming closer makes me scramble to snap my lap top shut, and tuck it neatly beneath my pillow. I sprawl across my bed, and pat around for a book. It's not like my mother doesn't understand my predicament.

She knows.

She just doesn't know the full extent of it all. And I don't need her finding out any time soon. Her face pops around the doorway, a small sympathetic smile adorning her face.

"Oh, your hair's dry." She comments. I clear my throat uncomfortably, giving her a cheery, fake smile.

"Yeah, sorry, I should've told Cloud as soon as I got out." I apologize quickly, knowing that was a load of bullshit. But I'm not too preoccupied with the lie, I'm more worried about maintaining that smile. I look away, shifting my eyes to the book pretending to read.

"Right, well dinner's ready." She says softly, as if speaking too loudly would break me. I glance at her, noticing that she was staring sadly at my closet door… which was open! Holy crap!

A wave of embarrassment hits me as I stare at my picture adorned closet door. Each picture is of (oh guess who?) _her_, and each of the pictures has big X's over them. Occasionally a few of them have derogatory names like, bitch, slut, whorebag, etc…

My mom coughs, turning around and walking out the door. A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I rise from my position. I pause at the door, examining each crossed out picture. Some were just of her. And to my disdain, a lot of them had me – or some part of this pathetic idiot– in the picture. And to my complete and utter annoyance, few of them had Sora in it… That little bitch is going next on the X-ing out.

My eyes narrow, when I notice one of the pictures is unmarked. It's of her (obviously) with her arms wrapped around me, lips pressed against my cheek. That ridiculously flushed face on the _photo!Naminé_ makes me growl. I reach for the red marker, uncapping it with my teeth. Rage is already boiling in the pit of my stomach. However, I stop short a few inches from the picture.

A stupidly miniscule part of me has casted a force field over this dinky little picture. It's saying "Halt!"and for the life of me I can't move past those few inches. Frustrated, I opt to desecrating the biggest picture I have of Sora. The buck teeth offer little comfort.

Stupid Sora. He has to be the biggest fool out of the three of us.

_Kairi Lockhart is now in a relationship with Sora Highwind._

The words burn beneath my eyelids. This is so stupid. She must be doing this on purpose. If only he knew she's as gay as fucking window. I roll my eyes, tossing the red marker back on the desk. With a huff and a last look at the unmarked picture, I slam the closet door shut, locking her back inside. I feel a humorless chuckle peel from my lips as I think of the irony. Well, she can stay locked in there if she wants because I DON'T CARE.

I crawl back into my bed, pulling the laptop from beneath the pillows. Before I do something stupid, like posting hate comments all over that fire-crotch bitch's wall, I sign out. The Facebook login screen stares at me for a few seconds, before I quickly type an address on the browser.

The Myspace home screen welcomes me. I type in my login, waiting as the page loads. It's been years since the last time I logged in. When the page finally loads, I understand why.

Myspace became too _mindfucking_ for my pathetic brain to comprehend.

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**Shall it be continued? Shall it be obliterated? The world may never know. Except me, of course. Reviews are exceptionally encouraging, and loved, and adored.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Apologies for any typos. I should mention Roxas is going to play a very big part in this little ol' story xO. I didn't realize Namine had such a potty mouth until now ._.' Perhaps I should change the rating soon.  
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**Also, be mindful of the years. They'll be switching around later on.  
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**Enjoy!  
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**Chapter 1**

_Senior Year_

Monday is just as uneventful as any other day of the week. I'm a good ten minutes late going into the shower. Cloud, my older brother, glares at me from the dining table. The taste of my eggs is nonexistent as it goes down my stomach. My sympathy-engrossed parents send me off with a pack lunch and a _"have a nice day, dear"_. I half-struggle with my books and bag, as I go out the door. It's become such a routine that I'm not so sure that any of it is real.

I don't think about it too much, when I hear the incessant rumbling of the stupid car in the driveway.

The glare is still on my brother's face as he waits for me in the beat up Honda sedan, passed down from my parents. The look of disgruntlement on his expression is even more prominent, when the zipper on my bag scrapes the side of his car door. I huff, tossing the books through the window, and opening the door.

Cloud's only nineteen and he has it in his head that he's so much better than me. It's not like he says it (he doesn't talk that much) but I know he thinks it all the time.

With how shitty my poor clichéd teenage life is turning out to be, I'm starting to think he's right about being better. I glance at him, once he pulls out of the driveway.

He's smart, gets good grades, while I'm on and off with dangling by a thread with C's. He's good looking, with that stupid hard glare/gaze thing going on. And he's stupidly well fit and has a perfect stature. I'm… well _miniature_ and puny. It's kind of ridiculous being a _Senior_ who looks like they still belong in middle school.

"Drop me off a block before school." I demand softly. I can see his hands on the steering wheel tighten.

"No," he mumbles.

"Cloud. Just do it." I hiss. He relents, slowing the car down to pull over. _"Thank you."_

I gather my things, preparing to exit, when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

Cloud pushes down on the gas, causing the car to rumble unpleasantly. I take that as a sign to get the hell out of the car. Because sooner or later that piece of junk is going to blow up. I slam the door shut behind me, tightening the strap of my bag as Cloud hands my books through the window.

He frowns at me, looking away, before looking back. "See you."

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The sight of school immediately puts a damper in my spirits. It's not that I don't like school…no actually it is. I _fucking_ hate school. I don't make grades most of the time and while that's a contributing factor towards this hate, the real reason is the fact that I have to see Kairi Lockhart's stupid face every day.

I clutch my book tightly to my chest, walking briskly down towards the front doors. As expected, I feel the eyes of the students milling about the front steps on me.

Most people assume I'm in my own world. That's why they don't really bug me. I guess, in a way, I am sort of in my own world. Or at least I used to be. I used to be a very naïve girl, believing in anything and everything. The notion of romanticized love, and grand gestures. Well, fuck that. The startling crash of reality just shattered every belief in my innocent mind.

Or rather, the startling crash of _her_ fucked me over completely.

I reach forward and pull the front door open; feeling a rush of a cold breeze hit me and the sound of the prehistoric air conditioner chugging through my ears. I'm so used to it, that it doesn't scare me anymore. I still remember my first day here at this dump of a cow town school. I thought it was one of those foaming-at-the-mouths pit bulls waiting to tackle me.

My mind, in an involuntary action, rushes back to my first day – precisely a year and a week ago. Not that I remember that, it's just a _guesstimation_. Things were so much more different. Things were so much more –

A rough shove from the back, breaks me from my thoughts, and nearly makes the books in my arms topple over. It takes me a moment to readjust myself. When I finally turn around, I face the suspect, an expectant frown forms on my face. Why on earth am I not surprised?

Adorned in the ridiculous cheerleading uniform get up, a bitch-faced girl glares at me. I ignore her, continuing my trek to my first class.

The small percentage of people who actually acknowledge me are the idiots that harass me, like _that_ bimbo. It doesn't bother me – most of the time. Usually it's easy to ignore. I'm used to the pushes, the name calling. The derogatory insults branded on my personal items. But when things start mysteriously disappearing, like the books that I've now learned to carry with me, things get serious.

"Where do you think you're going?" She sneers. I ignore her. I'm not a push over. I just don't think it's worth my time on someone whose name I don't even remember. Probably some fucking snobby underclassmen. I _hate_ underclassmen. And no, it's not because Kairi fucking Lockhart is an underclassmen. It's not, so get that out of your head. Underclassmen suck. I don't ever think I was _that_ stupid when I was a freshman.

I clutch my book to my chest again, shooting the girl a withering glare, before making my way to first period. Thankfully, I get to Pre-Calculus without anymore _altercations_. I reach the classroom, throwing the door open and going inside.

Pre-Calculus. Ugh. Another thing I hate. Again, I don't blame the teacher, or the silly, forgettable formulas. No, it all comes back to _her_. My eyes immediately dart around the room, looking for any semblance of that painfully familiar red hair. Bleh, I mean, like, _stupid _red hair.

A sigh of relief rolls out of my mouth when I'm met with no signs of the peculiar hair color. At least I get a few minutes of peace, before all hell breaks loose in my mind. This is the worst part of my day – sharing a class with her.

I don't know if I should be more thankful for the mindfucking math problems that distract me, or the fact that this is first period and the only time I have to see her throughout the day.

I take my usual seat, dropping my books on the desk. As soon as I'm situated, I open the first book in my reach. I ignore the disapproving look from the teacher, because, well, she's stupid. And she's a math teacher so I think she's just obligated to hate books.

A book is like the perfect tool of distraction when things are uncomfortable. It's educational. You look smart. And teachers can't exactly take it away, because hello, you're learning right?

That's what I used to think. Now they're just stupid.

My fingers trace over the words in the book, as I lean against the table. It takes me a minute to realize what exactly I'm reading, because for the past minute I've just been staring at the title page blankly._ Wuthering Heights_. The romantic of all romantic shit, besides Romeo and Juliet.

It used to be my favorite book. I know for a fact that books are a bunch of crap now. What happened to Heathcliff's death-transcending love? What happened to being together forever? Where's _my_ Romeo to defy the stars?

I toy with the worn, bent pages. The thought of burning it and dancing around the fire like a maniac pleases me. A sliver of happiness races through my veins. If not for a brief moment. That moment is shattered, however, when _she_ walks into the classroom, Sora _fuck-I'm-a-Loser_ Highwind trailing behind her like an ugly duckling. Like a pathetic fanboy, begging for her autograph. What a loser.

It's like a scene out of a movie. Slow-motion and everything. The brunet in all of his pretty boy glory, holds on to her hand, as she smiles at him. Just looking at him sets my face boiling in rage. The same black bold words keep running through my head, as I see him grin back at her, his hands lacing with hers.

Kairi Lockhart is now in a relationship with Sora Highwind.

I hate them.

I bow my head concentrating on my fingers. Because it's annoying to look at them. And it doesn't hurt. Nope. It doesn't hurt at all, seeing your ex with the school's biggest idiot. Nope, not at all.

When the finger focusing proves to be useless, I move my attention back to the book laid out before me. It's not a very good focusing strategy because I can't really help the way I keep glancing at her like a moron. Her vibrant hair is tied into a messy ponytail, cherry fringe pushed to the side. Her face is bright and happy and just – just _disgustingly_ perfect. My mouth twists into a frown as I read the same fucking sentence over again.

My eyes dart back towards her and, well _shit_, she's staring right back. Those fresh blue eyes that used to make me shake like a sad adoring fan. That used to set my soul on fire. That used to send a heat wave through my palpitating heart with her heavy gaze…

Enough of the dramatics. It just makes me sick now. No joke, I want to empty out my breakfast in the nearest trashcan. Or perhaps, if I get the chance, I can puke all over that stupid pretty boy's face.

Kairi's heavy, blue eyes swivel around the classroom, taking in the emptiness I assume, before focusing in on me again. Then she smiles and what makes it worse is that it's one of her stupid _polite_ smiles I used to swoon at. Swoon equals error at this point. My body can't even comprehend with that action anymore. You bitch, I want to say. But I hold my tongue. She doesn't even deserve my acknowledgement.

I don't take well to liars. I don't approve of fake gestures or accept _polite smiles_.

And I sure as hell don't tolerate being sorely _dumped_.

With a final glance, I turn away from her.

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The day flits by _uneventfully_. My nose remains in my book. Or at least, I try to pretend it's stuck in a book. It makes the walks between classes shorter and less – annoying.

By lunchtime, I've come to the conclusion that Catherine is a mega, uber, dumb bitch. And that Heathcliff is a poor misunderstood soul. And Edgar is just an idiot… Obviously, there's something wrong with that theory, considering the fact that I used to hate Heathcliff before.

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated, folding the page as a bookmark. Apparently less annoying isn't an option for me. Even this book is proving to be a source of irritation. I sigh, snapping the book shut. The timing is almost perfect because in the next second a very solid body stops in front of me.

"Excuse me."

I look up from the book to find a blonde haired boy wearing a politely confused smile. It takes me a moment to realize that this isn't Sora; it's some other strange boy. His blue eyes squint at my lack of response. Heavy blue eyes that seem so painfully familiar. The boy shifts uncomfortably as our gazes meet, nervously brushing the swept bangs over his eyes.

"I'm kind of lost…" He trails off, gesturing towards the small piece of paper in his left hand. I feel my jaw drop stupidly, because, well he's talking to me. No, let me correct myself, he's talking to me like a _normal_ person.

My eyes dart down towards the paper in his hands, then back to him, before slowly observing him as a whole. Baggy jeans, and a somewhat baggy shirt, with a skateboard clutched in his right arm.

"I'm new here." He supplies, as if I can't figure that out myself. A small twinge of annoyance hits me, but it quickly fades away at the confused smile he's flashing. It's…_distracting_. "I'm Roxas."

"You don't want to be talking to me, _Roxas_." I say, after finding my voice. The smile fades into a frown, and his dark eyebrows furrow together. Before he can say anything else, I move around him.

"Wait, wait!" He calls after me. It doesn't matter. I don't listen. I'm doing him a favor. If he wants to get anywhere at this damn school, he'd stay clear away from me.

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The bright sunlight hits me, as I walk out into the courtyard. I hear the chatter and babble of students as they goof off, eating their lunch. The pack lunch in my bag stays there… well, it will until I find the nearest trash can. My mom always forgets that I hate mayonnaise.

I find a seat on the nearest empty bench. Even if someone were sitting there, they'd scatter in an instant. I don't acknowledge anyone. What does it matter? I'm the school's weirdo pariah.

As if to prove my title, the same bitchy cheerleader from earlier has the decency to walk up to me, and smack my book out of my hands. My eyes are hard as I glare at her for a minute. The urge to scream, the urge to fight is unbearable. I feel my eyes tear up as I resist punching her square in the face.

The eyes of everyone on the courtyard zero in on this little spat. I know it, because it always seems to happen every day. Every day, in the same spot, around the same time, from the same person. You'd think I would learn to find another spot to pretend to read by now.

My eyes dart around the yard. I spot the new kid in an instant. He looks wary and in the middle of interrupting us. God I hope he just minds his own business. My attention swivels to the next person that stands out. Sora fucking Highwind. He's got a stupid, constipated expression on his face as he tries to make sense of the situation. As if it were rocket science. I fucking hate that guy.

Finally, I feel my gaze rest on the redhead who's watching me with an unreadable expression. Her eyebrows are furrowed, lip tucked beneath her teeth. That worried expression on her face aches. Not the good ache. I don't hold the gaze for long, because, really, she only makes me angrier. Instead, I intake deeply and then bend down to pick up the book. But the cheerleading bimbo beats me to it, kicking it a good distance away.

Her chestnut brown hair, flips at her shoulders. Her green eyes narrow maliciously.

"I told you not to hang out here, _lesbo_." She sneers. A wave of annoyance billows deep in my chest at the name. The name itself doesn't exactly bug me. What really bugs me is that it _isn't_ true. What pisses me off even more is that the real lesbo is her so-called head bitch in charge captain.

I'm secure in my sexuality, when I say that labels and I don't correlate. Labels are unreliable, just like books, just like Sora Highwind, and the biggest pressed lemon of all, Kairi Lockhart. If someone asked me if I was gay, I would honestly answer that no. I'm just into _people_.

"It's a free country isn't it?" I ask rhetorically.

"No, it's not. So don't go around parading your stupid dyke tendencies here, okay?" She snarls, planting her hands on her hips.

"Selphie, come on." It's _her_. When the fuck did she get here? Sympathy flickers through her blue eyes and it's almost convincing. It would be convincing, if I were unaware of her lying backstabbing side. I snap in an instant.

"I don't need your charity." I bristle, scowling at her. It's the first time I've spoken to her since that day. Kairi looks taken aback, and another wave of that fake sympathy flutters throughout her expression. It pisses me off even more, but it's laced with an undeniable surge of satisfaction.

"Nami –"

"Shut up!" I interrupt, before she even has a chance to finish my name. I don't want to admit it, really, but I think if I hear it… it'll hurt.

I spin on my heel, and rush across the courtyard before I have to hear her voice again. It's weird and unnatural – hearing it now. It's been so long since I've heard it, especially being directed to me. It's almost too much for me to handle. I hate being made a fool of, and that's exactly how I feel at this moment.

My eyes burn in shame and humiliation, as I tear through the hallways with purpose. People dart out of my way as if I had the black plague. Well, fuck them.

_Naminé, Naminé, Naminé. _

She almost said my name. Fucking shit, she almost said my name!

_Naminé._ Even just the beginning of my name coming from her sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine. The last time I heard my name coming from her mouth was –

"_It's over Naminé."_

The hallways look watery now, as I blindly reach for the doorknob to the auditorium. The usual epicenter of all humiliation is the only solace at this time. I throw the door open and bolt inside, slamming it shut behind me.

The dark quiet room calms my nerves in an instant, as I take a quivering breath. I wipe my eyes gently, with my fingers and make my way towards the empty stage. My fingers move to adjust my bag but then – something is off. Where's my book?

A wave of dread shoots through my veins as I remember that bimbo bitch kicking it off to the side before I ran off. Wonderful. Well, there's another book lost. And I really liked that one too.

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**Reviews are always lovely and are always appreciated. **

Wuthering Heights - go read it!


	3. Chapter 2

**Back again. Well, this honestly came out longer than I intended. Flashback mode alert. Told you to pay attention to the date.**

**Response to anon reviewer _Oompa Loompa_**: adfojaofjeaoj;...I know I know! DX I'm sorry!

**Anyway, apologies for any typos, grammatical/spelling errors. Did not proofread again, what a surprise. **

**enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

_Junior Year _

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"See you." Cloud muttered, rolling up the window before I could respond. He pressed the gas, making the engine rumble loudly. With a flushed face, I spun around to see if anyone heard. They did.

I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb. The new girl from _Twilight Town_, big shot city, moving to somewhere as empty and close-knitted as Destiny Islands. I was pretty sure those things were running through people's heads as they watched me scurry to the entrance. Or at least what I hoped was the entrance.

I held my book to my chest, looking cautiously around the cacophony resounding through the hallway. Admittedly, it scared me a little. Girls giggled into their phones, as they shot the raucous boys a sultry look. A boy with long spiky hair, in particular, pounded against the nearest locker with his drumsticks, grinning maliciously at me. I shrunk away, gripping the book tighter.

Things were definitely not like this at my old school. In fact I was pretty sure at my old school, every single one these hooligans would be suspended. Where on earth was the principal?

The office door came into view, like a beacon of light in this crazy jungle. I hurriedly rushed to it. However, I did not anticipate, running into an object that popped out of nowhere. Okay that might have been a lie. Considering that this was a raging jungle, it was safe to say I should've expected running into something.

Fiery, cherry red hit me in the face. My book spilled over the floor.

"Watch where you're…" The voice stopped uneasily.

I glanced from beneath my eyelashes to find a very flushed looking redheaded girl. She matched the color of her hair. Big, dark, blue eyes widened in embarrassment, as I continued to study the girl, who visibly shrunk.

After what felt like an hour of the unrelenting staring, I bent down to pick up my book, but the girl quickly kicked it so that it toppled over a few feet away.

"Watch where you're going loser." She finished her earlier statement, pushing past me. I wasn't sure if I was more shocked or worried about the state she left my book in. I crouched down to pick up my book, inspecting it for any damages.

When I found none, I quickly brought it to my chest, gazing in the direction the girl walked away.

That certainly never happened at my old school. The most controversial thing that happened at my school was a boy getting suspended for pasting a _kick me_ sign behind a poor unsuspecting freshman.

I was aware of the eyes that fell on me as I picked up my book. I was aware of the snickering and laughing. It felt strange – _obviously_. And it left me apprehensive. How does one even react to these kinds of things?

With a small huff, I stood up and continued my trek to the main office. My face was burning in shame by the time I reached the door and escaped the laughing students. I coughed, placing a cold, clammy palm against my boiling cheek, willing it to cool off.

The receptionist lady eyed me warily, as I continued to hold my face stupidly. I moved my hand away in an instant. I smiled sheepishly, before walking up to the desk.

"Hi –"

"Naminé Strife?"

I nodded. The receptionist looked away, and turned her attention to the computer in front of her. She began typing away at it like a madwoman. Her lips pulled downward in distaste.

"We've been expecting you."

Well, that wasn't creepy at all.

"You have?" I muttered out uneasily. The receptionist lady fixed her glasses that were falling off the bridge of her nose, finally looking up.

"I'm printing out your schedule." She answered offhandedly. I waited uncomfortably, my eyes taking in the office. It was cramped. The desks looked a couple of years old. The floral wallpaper was chipping at the edges of the ceiling. The only thing that looked relatively new was the computer; the receptionist was hacking away at.

The bell rang, making me jump.

"You can take a seat." She gestured towards the dingy chairs by the door. I tightened the strap of my bag, moving over towards the chair and sitting down. "The printer has a habit of acting up." She said from behind the desk. I didn't bother responding. The metal wired basket was in the way, anyway.

I toyed with the pages of my book, for what felt like a good ten minutes. _Wuthering Heights_. It was sort of my go-to book. The perfect book to get your mind off of stressful things – like the first day of school.

The door creaked open, breaking my attention from the book. A boy with spiky brown hair walked into the office, carrying a sheet of paper.

"The internet's down, so I've got the attendance here." He called out to the receptionist, waving the piece of paper in her face. She glared at him irritatingly, pointing to the wired basket. The boy shot her a huge grin, setting the paper down.

"It's too early in the morning for this." She muttered, rising from her seat. "Oh, before you go, I need you to escort Naminé to her classes." She stopped at the printer, where my schedule was conveniently printing. Once it was done, she whipped it out and handed it to him.

He stared at the paper, his smile fell a fraction of an inch, before he turned to look at me. His light blue eyes fell on me, raking me in. I felt a small flush form on my face. There was something in his eyes that made me uncomfortable.

I coughed, getting up from my seat.

"I guess." He mumbled.

"That's um, okay, I think I can do it myself." I answered.

"In that case –"

"-Hey." The receptionist interrupted warningly. He sighed.

"Fine, come on." He waved for me to follow him. I glanced at the receptionist, who was back in front of her computer. I let out a small sigh, following the brunet boy out the door.

The hallways were empty, as he walked through them, backpack slung over his jerseyed back. The name _Highwind_ was imprinted against the bright, red jersey. I inspected his slender form, as I tried to keep up with him.

"You're new here, huh?" He asked, without turning around. I fought to catch up.

_Isn't it obvious?_

"Yes," I responded.

"I'm _Sora Highwind_," he introduced himself, stopping and turning around. He held his hand out for me to shake which I did. It was a hard grip. "I'm quarterback of the football team."

I couldn't help but think he was showing it off – his status. Admittedly, it kind of bothered me. I didn't bother to tell him though. He looked like the type of person who didn't listen, anyway.

"I'm Naminé Strife."

"Well, Naminé Strife, looks like you're in my first period class." He said, gazing down at my schedule, which, might I add, I still had not looked at. I reached for the door, but the brunet lunged forward stopping my hand.

"What is it?"

"Naminé, you're the newbie here. So people are going to pay you special attention. If you play your cards right, you'll be popular, like me." He said hurriedly. "But, if you make a slip you'll go down."

"Are you trying to help me?" I asked suspiciously. Sora leaned back against the wall, a small smirk on his face.

"Well, I can't let a cute girl get labeled as a loser on her first day, now can I?"

Yes, that's what it was. He seemed cocky. And I didn't like it. _At all_.

I hid my disgusted frown,

I opened the door walking in to what looked like a math class. What seemed like every head in that classroom, turned in my direction. Some of the gazers were the people that laughed at me in the hallway. My face immediately flushed as I realized this.

And as if to make things worse, that redhead girl who called me a loser was sitting in the seat nearest the door.

Her deep, dark blue eyes narrowed as she recognized me. Her fingers clenched around the pen in her hand, and her body stiffened. Her cherry hair was carefully pinned back in a tight ponytail, bangs parted to the side. I held her gaze for what felt like hours.

It was odd how everything just suddenly became muffled and blurry, except for the vivid image that was her. I didn't know what to do. Her gaze was heavy and loaded, and it made me tremble. The book in my hand was threatening to topple over again.

I was only half-aware of Sora brushing past me, and taking the empty seat next to the redhead. It wasn't until I saw his arm hang loosely around the back of her chair. I blinked out of the stupor I was in. The redhead, however, was still staring at me intensely. It was… distracting.

"Hey, _Kairi_," he greeted, throwing his bag on the desk. _Kairi_. I mused, thoughtfully. Kairi. It sounded pleasant in my head. Almost too pleasant, for the seemingly unpleasant girl glaring at me.

"What took you so long?" She snapped, her tone was sharp and made the brunet cringe. His bright smile melted away, as he glanced from Kairi to me. His eyebrows were furrowed in distress. And for some reason, I had a slight inkling to what he was thinking – or rather what he was trying not to do.

"I had to deliver the fresh meat." Sora snickered spitefully, nodding his head in my direction. That caught me off guard. The way his whole cheery demeanor seemed to have flipped. I mean, I knew he seemed like a pompous show off, but I thought he was at least nice. The girl, Kairi, smiled maliciously.

Perhaps, the whole popularity thing at this school was as bad as Sora's haircut.

.

Sora did not show me the rest of the way to my classes. That, I kind of had to figure out by myself. From the way he was glued to Kairi, I came to the conclusion that he liked her. It was blatantly obvious. Kairi, on the other hand, was a little harder to figure out.

I didn't bother with them though. Despite the fact that I shared two more classes with them.

It was also blatantly obvious that I was new.

One or two people, out of pity I assume, came up to me and pointed the direction I was supposed to go.

On one of these occasions, a group of girls stopped in front of me. I immediately recognized the redhead from my first period class. Kairi was staring at me with a cold expression, as one other chocolate haired girl stepped forward.

"Hey, new girl." The brunette greeted in a not so friendly way. She introduced herself, along with the rest of the girls that I suddenly became aware of, surrounding me. I forgot all of them by the time she was done. "Where are you from?"

I blinked, feeling my hands turn clammy against my book.

"Um, Twilight Town." I answered. Kairi moved from her spot, pushing the girl out of the way. She stood in front of me proudly, hands on her hips. It was then that I noticed the red cheerleading uniform. My eyes swept over the crisp top, stopping to observe the golden stitched C, on the right side.

I didn't have any problems with cheerleaders. Cheerleaders were cool. Well, at my old school. Hollywood had royally screwed up the image of cheerleaders, giving them bad name. And, I'll admit after having a marathon of _Bring It On_ with Cloud, I had a change of heart.

But from the looks of the girls – their posture, and attitude, I had a sudden realization that maybe those clichéd movies were right for once.

"_Twilight Town_?" She sneered. "Do people over there even get any sun? You look like a vampire."

The other girls snickered in response to the redhead. She looked at me triumphantly. I felt my face flush in frustration. I was aware of my pasty complexion. I didn't need people to remind me, either.

"Oh, perhaps. It's all real though. There's no need for fake tans or hair dye back home." I responded coolly. Kairi's eyes narrowed, as her face turned red. The other girls took a moment to realize what I just said was insulting.

"You think you're funny?" The brunette beside Kairi demanded. I backpedaled. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that. I could be such a doormat when I wanted to be. And right now, my head was telling me to collapse and lay flat on the floor. "Huh?"

"N-no.."I stammered out, finally feeling outnumbered and surrounded.

"Come on Selphie," Kairi spoke up suddenly. The girl – Selphie – glared at me, before nodding her head. The group pushed past me, each one had the decency to shoulder me as they walked by.

.

.

When I walked into my Chemistry class, I was early. I introduced myself to the teacher, who showed me my assigned seating. When people started flowing in, and Kairi herself walked in, I swear the blood drained out of my face. The redhead stopped, alarmed, when she spotted me.

An angry flush formed on her face, as she stormed up to me and plopped down on the seat next to mine. It was silent, before I decided to break it.

"Hi, I'm really sorry -" I started.

"-Shut up," she snapped, pulling out her binder from her bag. I flinched at her hostility. The whole of fifth period went on in uncomfortable silence.

Kairi even angled her chair in the opposite direction. As if I wasn't there. I knew I shouldn't have expected much, especially after the angry look she gave me in first period. It still left me slightly miffed.

.

.

.

The week went by. Kairi's attitude didn't fade away. The cheerleaders didn't bug me – didn't talk to me since the first day. However, they kept eyeing me weirdly. Almost like they were sizing me up. It unnerved me, and for some reason I got the feeling that they were plotting.

I was alone most of the time. The few friendly people seemed to have drifted away from me.

I set my bag down, as I watched the nearest group of people scoot away from me at the lunch table. Perhaps drifted away wasn't the precise way to describe their behavior. The students immediately picked up their trays and hurried away.

Yep. They were avoiding me.

_Did I have something on my face?_

I mulled the thoughts over as I pulled out my sandwich packed in my bag. I took one sniff of it and cringed. I felt a twinge of annoyance as I unwrapped the sandwich from the plastic. The smell of mayonnaise hit my nose in an instant. I nearly gagged.

My mother – sometimes she was so scatterbrained she never realized she put mayonnaise in her daughter's sandwiches. I despised mayonnaise.

With a huff, I rose from my seat, picking up the ham and cheese catastrophe, making a move towards the trashcans. As I dumped it in the trash, I couldn't help but feel like someone was watching me. I lifted my head, suddenly feeling paranoid. Yes, someone was watching, in fact, the entire population that was within a ten foot radius stared at me. Some looked shocked, others shot me a sympathetic look, and a few were even laughing.

I felt my face heat up in an instant. Because everyone was looking at me. _Did I really have something on my face?_

I bowed my head and scurried to my bag, praying to god that I remembered to pack a mirror. Except my bag wasn't there. I whipped around, surveying the rest of the benches. Maybe I got the wrong bench. Maybe it was the yellow one. Maybe –

My thoughts – along with the rest of my body – froze as I caught the group of cheerleaders migrating back inside the hallway. And in the brunette cheerleader's hand was none other than my bag. They disappeared behind the door by the time I shook some sense into myself.

I chased after them.

If it hadn't been for their loud laughter echoing throughout the empty hallway, I wouldn't have been able to keep up. A few turns, and I was in the indoor pool room.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, as I glanced at the ominous water. Fear spread throughout my body in less than a second. It could have been because I was terrified of water. Because I couldn't swim and almost drowned when I was about seven. Or it could've been because Kairi Lockhart was smirking at me, holding my bag out, threatening to drop it into the crystal clear abyss.

I couldn't find my voice. Even when the brunette huffed impatiently and knocked the bag out of the redhead's hand. Even when the zipper ripped open, spilling out most of my belongings. Pencils, my binder, random sheets of paper, and my copy of _Wuthering Heights_ floated around helplessly.

Kairi's smirk fell, as she scooped my bag from the pool, flinging it to the side.

"_Selphie_!" She scolded. Her voice sounded strangled a she continued to berate the shorter girl. I was only half aware of the yelling. A loud pounding in my ears blocked out most of the voices. Dizzily, I realized that it must have been my heavy footsteps as I ran to the edge of the pool.

My book floated towards the center of the blasted rectangular evil device. I wanted to scream. I wanted to jump in and grab it. Most of all I wanted to cry. It was silly, yet it was so appropriate that I allowed it. I allowed the hot, thick tears to build and spill over. I allowed the low whimper, and shallow breathing.

My hands trembled as I grabbed my bag. This action made the cheerleaders freeze. They waited – for something. Anything. Retaliation.

Instead, I did the most cowardly thing a person could do. I ran away.

.

The dismissal bell rang, but I stayed put. I felt like a gargoyle statue on the auditorium stage.

After blurrily running through the hallway, I'd found a perfect place to have a meltdown. I tried to find humor in my statement but I couldn't. Even if this place was empty, it wasn't comforting. Being alone wasn't comforting.

I didn't even have friends to cry with.

I curled my legs inward, feeling the tears sting at my eyes. It was horrible. It was so horrible. Why were people so mean? What did I ever do to them?

The smirk on her face still burned into my memory. There wasn't an ounce of remorse. Was she even human? I hated her. NO, well, I wanted to hate her. But, there really isn't any kind of place for hate inside. I was never an angry person. And in this case, I was sure I wasn't going to hate her either.

I sniffled against my sweater sleeve. My fingers carefully wiped my already puffy eyes. I probably looked like a drowning cat. It was kind of pathetic, and I felt so ashamed about it. How was I even supposed to show my face after this?

It didn't make a difference. I would never fit in at this school. They made that certain the moment they dropped all of my things in the pool.

I could feel my eyes tearing up angrily as I thought of it. That satisfied smirk that adorned the redhead's lips. Or the smug expressions on the faces of the rest of her crew as they watched me desperately scramble for my stuff. I didn't manage to recover most of my things. My eyes glanced towards the sopping wet bag lying helplessly beside me. It wasn't like it mattered. Everything in that bag wasn't that important.

Well, everything except for my book. I frowned, the moisture brimming over the rims of my eyes. And it was my favorite book too. A surge of frustration billowed deep in my chest. The book. My book.

It was probably a shipwreck anchored to bottom of the pool. Even if I could get someone to grab it… it would be useless.

I couldn't happily wallow in my depressed state, because in the next second, the auditorium door swung open. A small figure stepped through the doorway. I was tempted to apologize for being in the empty, until I caught a glimpse of the deep, cherry color.

I rose from my seat defensively, in an instant.

Kairi Lockhart, in her horribly graceful glory, nervously walked down the aisle of seats. My body stiffened, glancing from her to my soaked belongings drying out on the stage.

"W-what do you want?" I demanded suspiciously. I tried to sound angry, but I was pretty sure it wasn't louder than a small squeak. Her blue eyes glanced up towards me. It shocked me that there wasn't a hint of malice in her expression. In fact, she looked…apologetic?

Her bottom lip tucked beneath her teeth apprehensively, as she shifted uncomfortably. Her fingers toyed with the end of her perfect red ponytail. Her pristine Nike's kicked the floor lightly. I almost wanted to stop her – from getting her shoes scuffed. But that was stupid.

"I-I um, well," she struggled. It was odd and almost unnatural hearing her sound so uncertain. It was weird – not hearing the irritation and superiority lacing her voice.

The girl's face flushed, as I stared at her warily.

"I just, um," she paused, before reaching into her bag and pulling something battered from the front flap. "I wanted to return this to you."

It took me a moment to realize that the battered thing she was holding out for me was my book. It looked like a roll of newspaper someone left out in the rain, and decided to bring it back inside the next day. Obviously she tried drying it with something. And obviously she tried to tape the edges.

It – _confused_ me. And it sent me even deeper into my defensive mode.

"Is this a joke?" I sputtered out unattractively. I even had the decency to peer around her shoulder, expecting one of her followers to pop out with a video camera.

"No, no it's not!" She exclaimed, taking a step closer to the stage. I, in turn, shrunk away. "I mean, I just… I didn't mean for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you."

Oh, yeah right, I thought angrily. But I held my tongue. Because I don't think I could've voiced my thoughts even if I wanted to.

"I just – _here_." She stammered, throwing the book at me. I flinched, as it hit me and fell on the floor. Kairi gaped at me in horror. She quickly scrambled to the edge of the stage in a flurry of what seemed to be _embarrassment_. "No, I didn't mean that. You were supposed to catch it."

I blinked, watching her ramble, too confused to say anything. She brought a hand to rest on her already crimson face.

"I'm sorry." She choked. My eyes narrowed as I studied her, looking for any insincerity behind her apology. When I shockingly found none, I slowly bent down to pick up my book.

I peered down at it, preparing for the worst. And "worst" it was. The pages were stiff, like tortilla chips. I could still smell a faint chlorine scent as I looked through the already yellowing smeared pages.

My heart sunk. It would've been futile to try to read it now. The words were blotched out.

"I can't read this." I whispered out, without realizing it. I glanced at the redhead, hoping she did not hear me. Bu the disappointed look on her face told me otherwise. The sinking feeling felt worse when I saw her face. It was inexplicable – the amount of _something_ (I couldn't quite put my finger on), I felt when I saw her expression.

I sighed heavily, bending down to retrieve my wet bag. I cringed as I felt it soaking through my shirt. I hopped off the stage pausing next to the redhead, who looked like a kid that found out Christmas was cancelled.

I shuffled awkwardly. "Um, thanks."

I left without another word, the battered copy of _Wuthering Heights_ clutched tightly at my side.

.

.

**Well there's some thoughts to mix around your head. Reviews are lovely, by the way ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

**And, here I am again with another chapter. **

**Not much to say... except there's a lot more Roxas. **

**Oh! I also want to thank the reviewers. I'm so entirely grateful for all the reviews that are left on this story - considering it's a yuri KH fics. I honestly wasn't expecting much. **Thank you, thank you!

**Apologies for any typos, spelling and/or grammatical errors.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_Senior Year_

_._

Tuesday is just as uneventful as Monday – or at least it starts out that way. The same routine happens. Waking up late. Eating. Cloud dropping me off. I walk up the steps, expecting the crowds to shrink away from me, expecting the monster air conditioner. What I don't expect, however, is being knocked off my feet. And I don't mean metaphorically.

When I hit the floor, my luck _shines_ brightly, as all my shit spills out of my bag. Can you sense the sarcasm?

I glance around, hearing the laughter of the random bystanders. Anger floods my body faster than an overflow of the damn fucking Nile in Egypt. I swear to god if it was one of those damn cheerleaders I'm going to –

"Oh crap, I'm _so_ sorry."

Huh, wasn't expecting that. I look up to the offender and notice, with chagrin, that it's that new kid. What's his face. I frown, trying to remember his name. Blond haired kid with the skateboard. My frown deepens when he reaches out, takes my hand, and lifts me up… _without_ my consent. I fume in silence, as I'm brought up to my feet.

His blue eyes study me – _expectantly_. His pale face looks worried when, after at least a minute of awkward silence, I don't respond. Silly boy. If he only knew that I really just wanted him out of my face.

"Are you okay?" His question burns annoyingly in my ear.

Um, no, you just knocked me off my fucking feet with your stupid skateboard! I'm tempted to yell at him. To pull out the school's handbook that I so rightfully demanded a copy of (to find loopholes in the rules, among other things), and tell him skateboarding is prohibited on school grounds. Not because I'm some priss goody two shoes. But because skateboarding is stupid.

"I'm fine." I say with a clipped tone. BHK flinches. I almost feel apologetic. It's not his fault, not really. He was probably too preoccupied trying to look cool for the stupid fucktards at this school. I wouldn't blame him.

"Hey, I remember you," he starts, and that's my cue to walk away. The idiot doesn't take a hint and follows me anyway. I idly wonder if he'd follow me off a cliff. "Yeah, they pushed you around yesterday."

_They_. I feel my face form a scowl. Was he just stupid, or fucking tactless?

"You know, that was really uncalled for. I'm shocked you haven't reported them." He continues, as if I'm actually engaged in this stupid conversation. "Or done something about it –"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" I interrupt rudely. He blinks at me innocently, reminding me vaguely of a child. It bothers me, and I don't know why. His lips twitch into a sincere smile. His disgustingly white teeth peek out from beneath his lips.

"Pre-Calculus, do you mind showing me where that is?"

Well, fuck me.

.

It feels like piece of gum on your shoe that you try to inconspicuously scrape off, when we both walk into the classroom. I can't right out and tell him to fuck off. That's downright cruel. And while I'm not particularly _nice_, I'm not a bitch.

It's not that I don't like him, I just don't like him. Well, I don't like most people. He's insufferable.

He talks nonstop, on the way to my seat. Showing me his skateboard as if I portrayed the slightest bit of interest. I barely even glance at the shitty, washed out board. I don't know skateboards or anything, but even a moron like Highwind could tell that was a piece of shit.

BHK stares fondly at his board, and I get the hint that he doesn't feel the same way.

I dig into my bag immediately, searching for a book I realize I never packed. Well, fuck me again. I feel like banging my head against the stupid desk. There goes the rest of my activities for the day in hell.

My gaze travels back towards BHK who is still going off on a tangent. "… and that's what happened."

I nod my head half acknowledging the fact that I only caught the ends of his statement. He gives me that expectant stare again. What? Does he want commentary now?

"Mmhm," I nod my head again. Satisfied, he goes off again.

"I never got your name." BHK says after a long monologue of his background story. He's from somewhere far (I wasn't pay enough attention to remember where). He's got a younger brother named Ventus, who according to him, looks like a clone. His parents are divorced. And he's had a girlfriend back home. Not that I cared or anything.

I sigh, giving up the idea of self harm. "I never gave you one."

His smile falters slightly, but never goes away. Something flashes between his striking blue eyes, something that's almost like mischief. It unnerves me immediately.

"I don't give up that easily." BHK declares. _Okay_…

I'm prepared with a witty remark, but the voice dies out in my throat when I see _her_ walking into the class. Oh, how could I forget that this was my own personal hell? Right, that new kid through everything off.

Kairi's cheerleading uniform, as pristine and perfect as usual, flutters as she flounces to her seat. Her deep, cherry (_stupid_) hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, bangs clipped back. It must be game day. She only wears her hair completely back when she has to physically do a cheer number. My mind strays absently. Remembering, the thrilled expression on her face after a successful number, at the evening football games. The stupid bobby pins that always got stuck in her hair whenever I tried to take them off, in the locker rooms. My fingers running through her soft tresses –

With a flushed face, I shoo those thoughts away. Because it's stupid to remember little unimportant things like that. And that dull ache in my chest can be _unbearably_ annoying sometimes.

Kairi's eyes flit around the room before carefully resting on me. She does it again, the same way as yesterday. It barely occurs to me why she does that. The bitch wants to see if anyone else important is going to catch her shooting Naminé, the biggest loser, a look.

My stomach churns, when her blue eyes narrow intensely before widening. The smile is forming on her face but then –

"Oh, hey Kai," BHK next to me greets.

Um what the fuck?

Kairi's intense gaze tears away from mine, as they land on the blond idiot next to me. Her eyebrows furrow, as her eyes flicker from the blond to me. She looks utterly perplexed. And it confuses me.

"H-hello, Roxas." She greets. Her voice is smooth, sounding as normal as can sears through me. It hurts and goes through my ears as rough as sandpaper. It's too soon – way too soon. Especially, considering I heard her voice yesterday at this close distance…

I can feel my heartbeat flutter crazily, _painfully_. My chest aches and twists, and aches again, as her eyes focus back on me. It's unnatural. She hasn't stared at me for this long since – since –

"What are you doing with _her_?" Kairi demands, her attention goes back to me. My stomach suffers more tumultuous waves. This is wrong.

I turn sharply to BHK – er _Roxas_. His eyes narrow and he full on glares at the redhead. I suddenly feel queasy. I want out, and I want out now.

So much for the uneventful Tuesday.

"She's my friend." He answers boldly, if not a little petulantly. I want hit him. I want him to fucking shut up. I want him to turn around and not talk to the redhead who's causing my body to react in ways I'd rather it not. I can feel my chest tighten angrily, that it's distracting. It almost makes me want to clutch it, perhaps it'll ease the furious twisting. But I don't. Because then I'd look like some dramatic idiot.

I glance back at her. My fingers clench into tight fists. Her blue eyes are locked on mine. It takes every bit of me to look away again. The tightening in my chest relents. I hear Kairi sigh impatiently. She's going to say something, I just know it. But then the door cracks open, breaking all of our attention.

Sora fucking Highwind walks in, and I swear I've never been more happy to see him. I've never been so thankful for his ditzy little brunet head, or that sleazy smirk forming on his tanned lips.

I feel a gigantic breath escape my lips.

He walks up to Kairi, pulling her attention away from us.

"Hey babe." He says, causing my lungs to freeze. Okay, fuck it. I still want to break this guy's nose. The redhead smiles tightly, turning completely away from Roxas and I.

More people start flooding in, much to my relief, putting a boundary between the couple and me. I sigh again, it comes out shaky. Kairi sits down, her head is turned towards the brunet as if she's in deep discussion with him. But I know she's not exactly listening to him. I've talked to Sora before, and that idiot can't exactly tell what's left from right.

The redhead's eyes suddenly flicker back to me. The intensity is still unreadable. I can't understand what's going on through her head, and she knows it. I turn away.

"Kairi; she's still the same as ever." Roxas mutters sullenly to me. From my peripheral vision, I can see the lovely couple in that _deep_ conversation. Mostly, I just hear Sora's guffaws, and the occasional giggle from Kairi.

The queasy feeling fades slightly, but not entirely. Any second, I feel like I could puke. The blonde irritatingly notices my …behavior. Or it could've been the gross look on my face. "You okay? You look…"

"I'm fine." I repeat my earlier statement in the same clipped tone. Roxas doesn't flinch this time. Instead, he smiles that sincere smile. It's distracting and irritating and insufferable all rolled into one. But I'm glad, because it's taking my focus away from the sickness that's ebbing away. I can breathe.

Class starts, and I successfully pretend to be preoccupied with the worksheet the bitch of a teacher makes us do. It leaves me to my thoughts. The way BHK – _Roxas_ – addressed Kairi almost seemed as if he knew her. Well, knows her.

I frown, bubbling in an answer on the worksheet, moving on to work on the next one. Not that I'm really working on them. _Multiple choice_ really is a gift from heaven.

I hear Roxas hum a tuneless song beside me. Maybe if I ask him. He seems harmless enough…

No. I'm not interested in anything that has to do with her. It's over. It's been over for months. I hate her. I won't acknowledge the curiosity anymore, because it doesn't even matter in the end.

.

.

The uneventful day is slowly turning into a miserable day. And no it's not because Roxas, BHK, _whatever_, is following me around as if I had a tray of cookies. It's because _she's_ watching me. Of all days to watch me, she had to pick this one – a fucking Tuesday – when the new kid is being insufferable and I don't have a book.

I feel unarmed and vulnerable, as I walk face down to my next class. I can sense her gaze trailing after me. It's even more obvious because I hear her right hand bitch taunting me. They haven't physically touched me at all this day, which in itself was weird (not that I wanted that). Did she say something to her cronies?

It wouldn't have been the first time.

But I honestly can't see Kairi doing anything for me…_anymore_.

Lunch comes around, and I think it's safe to say that I'm smarter or not suicidal yet, to go out and eat in the courtyard. Hell no. Roxas seems to sense my hesitance when I stop before the doors to the courtyard. He rubs the back of his blond head awkwardly. His blue eyes are wide, innocent and understanding. That feeling comes again; I'm bothered by the stare.

"Do you not want to go out and eat there?" He asks, presuming that I even want to go have lunch with him. I repress the bratty sneer that I'm tempted to give him. Instead, I sigh, giving him a once over.

He could do so much better than hanging out with a loser like me. And honestly, I rather enjoy being alone. AND he knows Kairi, which admittedly sets my body on edge. I made a vow to block her from anything relevant towards me. In other words, BHK _had_ to go.

"Um, I'll be right out, have to use the bathroom." I lie through my teeth.

"Oh, well then I'll wait-"

"You should save us a spot." I stammer out hastily. His expression immediately brightens.

"Okay, sure!" He agrees. I nod enthusiastically before spinning on my heels and walking briskly towards the auditorium. It's not like he knows where I'm going anyway. The boy's completely lost.

A wave of satisfaction washes through me, when I don't hear his footsteps. Good boy.

The large room is empty, as I quietly enter it. My shoes pad against the carpet floor softly. The sight of the unoccupied stage sends a surge of security for the first time this whole day. I welcome it, _wholeheartedly_, throwing my bag on the apron and hopping on. I position myself, legs dangling over the edge, and take out the packed sandwich from my bag.

I take a whiff and cringe. Fucking mayonnaise again.

Perhaps I _should_ have had lunch with the blonde haired idiot. Maybe he could've switched with me.

I laugh out loud at that thought, trying to imagine myself having lunch with him.

The laughter is short-lived though, because the sound of the auditorium door snapping shut makes me absolutely silent.

My eyes flicker towards the door and I swear the blood drains out of my face when I see Kairi fucking Lockhart stepping out from the doorway.

She walks down the aisle of seats, and I want to rise from my seat but I don't.

She briefly glances up at me, and the reserved expression on her face freezes me in an instant. I don't know if it's out of anger, or if it's out of shock.

A wave of déjà vu hits me as I watch her, the cheerleading skirt fluttering at her thighs, the nervous adjustment of her ponytail, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, as she plays with her fingers behind her back. Her bag bounces on the left side of her hip one last time as she comes to a slow stop, a few feet away from the stage. For a moment, it feels like it did the first time she approached me what felt like years ago, in this very same auditorium.

Kairi unlocks her fingers behind her back, and squares her shoulders, looking at me full on. It's a mixture of her cheerleader bitch face, and the Kairi I used to –

I curl my legs closer to my chest, watching her with wary eyes. The urge to strangle her becomes unusually prominent. _Especially since she looks so goddamn perfect in her stupid uniform_. I hate the way my eyes dip down to observe her legs in such an automatic reaction.

I pout, glancing back up to her face. I don't miss the slight curve of her lips. She noticed that. Wonderful, excuse me while I go shoot myself for being a pathetic loser that still drools after their ex.

She coughs uncomfortably, breaking me from my internal insults.

"H-hey." She mutters out nervously. Suddenly it's become so difficult to express the rage that's been simmering in my body ever since that horrible month. It's hard to call her a bitch, especially when she's looking at me like that. With that stupid forlorn, heart aching look. Like she's _suffering_. It shocks me how much it hurts. How much I want to do something stupid, like comfort her.

I swallow thickly, my gaze remains on her. The reserved expression softens, as she looks at me with expectancy. I don't speak. I _can't_, really.

"I, um, well," she coughs out, kicking her Nike's against the carpeted floor. She bows her head, the heavy gaze breaks. A mixture of uncertainty and that painstakingly vulnerability I used to swoon at. I almost do. Almost. If it weren't for that slight, sharp familiar twist forming in my chest.

She peeks up at me, from beneath her lashes, making her look ten years younger than her sixteen year old self.

"I just, um," She struggles, before sighing. In one swift motion she's digging through her bag, until she pulls out something familiar. Something that's _mine_. "I wanted to return this to you."

Kairi's voice is soft, unsure, as she holds out my copy of _Wuthering Heights_. The sight is painful, it's disgusting, it's sick, it's so fucking familiar I want to slap the book away from her hands. More so now because it never hit me. At least not consciously, that Kairi fucking Lockhart was the one that purchased that copy, she's offering me, back in 11th grade as a replacement for the first one. The one that got completely soaked.

Am I just stupid or _that_ completely depressed I never noticed before?

Shit just got real.

I gape at the book and then her. I don't know what to say. I don't want it. I don't want anything to do with that book, now.

"I just – _here_." She gestures for me to take it, but I'm utterly still as a statue. "_Naminé_?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Just kill me now. It's a low blow beneath the belt, calling me by my name. The soft lilting of her voice with the combination of my name. It brings back memories. Broken promises, passionate whispers, confessed feelings, breathy declarations – fuck.

My face boils with a mixture of humiliation and rage. Mostly humiliation. I can feel my eyes burn hotly, as the wary look shifts into a blurry glare. My throat tightens, feeling like thick peanut butter going down.

Kairi's blue eyes widen. It doesn't surprise me that she realizes I'm close to tears. The bitch has seen me at my worst. The redhead takes a brave step forward, so that she's actually by my legs. I'm tempted to kick her.

But I know I would never really do that.

"_Nami_-

"No." I sputter out suddenly. Her outstretched arm lowers. "I don't – I don't want it."

"It's yours," She starts, stepping even closer. So close that her thigh brushes against the stage. Not that I'm looking there. Because I'm not. "I – I want you to have it back." She adds uncertainly. Her arm moves up again, pushing the book near my legs. The back of her knuckle brushes against my knee and I snap.

"I don't want the fucking book, Kairi!" I snarl, slapping it away. I spring from my defensive position in an instant. Kairi visibly recoils, as if I slapped _her_ in the face.

The apology is on my tongue in the next second, but I refrain from voicing it out. I shouldn't be apologizing. I shouldn't even be acknowledging her fucking existence. The redhead carefully puts the book back into her bag, taking a reasonable step back.

Her face is white – the type of shaken white. Like you've seen a ghost.

"I'm – I'm really sorry," She mumbles so lowly I can barely hear her. "For everything."

"Shut up." I hiss out, bending down to snatch my bag up. I wipe my eyes angrily, trying desperately to pull it off as if something was in my eye. But from the miserable frown on her face I can tell she sees right through that act.

"I think, maybe we can talk things…"

I shake my head, making her voice falter. I almost kick the book again, as I drop myself from the stage and head for the exit.

"_Wendy."_

It stops me in my tracks. It's worse than being called Naminé. It's entirely personal and she knows. She fucking knows it.

"Don't _ever_ call me that."

I don't look back as I walk up the aisle.

And I don't comment on the broken sound I could've sworn I heard coming from her, before I walk out the door.

_._

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	5. Chapter 4

**Warning! Extremely short update! I'm sorry for not updating my stories frequently. I was a little busy these past couple of weeks. ****I apologize profusely for the wait. ****But I'm here now. I'm here and I'm ready to write! There really isn't anything more to say about this chapter, other than the fact that it's really short. And unfortunately, no Roxas :(  
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**Also! My lovely reviewers! Thank you, thank you thank you! I appreciate so very much.  
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**Random note that nobody cares about: Did anyone see last week's episode of Glee? One word: Faberry.  
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**Enjoy!  
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><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

_Junior Year_

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A week went by. A week of utter confusion on my part.

The first thing I wasn't expecting was the freedom of walking through the hallways and courtyard scott-free. If I was being honest, I was sort of expecting another attack from the cheerleaders. Speaking of which, the cheerleaders – or rather – _one_ cheerleader in particular was another contributing factor towards my feeling of puzzlement.

I watched the redhead from the other end of the courtyard. It became one of my daily routines during break. She was circled around her posse of cheerleaders. Each of them gazed at her with envy and admiration, as she stood with something akin to regal dignity. A small smirk tainted her golden skin, as she rested a perfectly manicured hand on her hip.

Boys became flustered messes whenever they approached her circle. Sora Highwind in specific. I watched every day as he tried to woo her. It reminded me vaguely of the young men from the Victorian age. How romanticized the art of dating was back then.

But this was high school. And Mr. Darcy wouldn't trip over his feet or stutter like an idiot if he talked to Elizabeth. Or at least he would have dignity doing it, instead of Sora's blubbering behavior. I almost felt sorry for him.

The reaction from the girl was the same every day. A malicious giggle into her small palm, and whispered insults among the cheerleading group. And when I would think she would let him off, she'd place a kiss on his cheek. In a _bless his heart_ sort of way.

I didn't understand the gesture. Did she want him, as he wanted her? Or was it a rejecting sort of gesture? Why give him false hope if that was true?

Kairi Lockhart was an enigma.

She was something I couldn't tangibly or even physically describe and understand what I was saying after describing it. I was curious. I was baffled, and I was hurt, that after a week since the whole book ordeal she would not acknowledge my existence. And that was incredibly stupid.

The classes I shared with her, she would walk right by me. Not even spare me a glance. I, on the other hand, found myself looking at her more than I could count. I couldn't help it. I wanted to figure her out. I wanted to know why she wouldn't look me in the eye. I wanted to know _why_ she would return my book, after plotting the demise of it with her friends.

Granted, I had to throw it away in the end. But it was still the thought that counted, right?

She was a complete mystery to me, and it _intrigued_ me.

It was ridiculous how much I wanted to talk to her, and yet when the opportunity graced my presence, I would chicken out.

It wasn't until a Friday, during Chemistry class, I finally summoned up enough courage to speak.

"H-hello." I stammered. My pale complexion was already darkening, if the boiling heat radiating off my face was any indication.

Kairi blinked in surprise. The bag she was still holding on to, slipped from her hands and landed on the desk with a messy crash. Her intense blue eyes widened in shock. Her lips fell open, and closed, and then opened again.

"Hi…" She muttered quietly. Her gaze immediately glued to the table. Her face burned an angry red, darker than the color of her cherry hair. I didn't mean to fluster her. I knew I had to be cautious, as if I were approaching a stray cat. This was unknown territory.

"Nice weather today." I commented stupidly.

_The weather? Really Naminé, really?_

The redhead's eyes narrowed, before a small smirk formed on her lips. I could tell she thought the same. If it were possible, my face melted off with humiliation.

She took a seat. And I noticed that she angled herself closer to me.

_Well that's a start._

We did not speak for the remainder of the class, yet I felt like a great victory had been accomplished. I initiated a conversation that didn't involve insults or my being victimized. It was almost a revolutionary breakthrough.

That one initiation led to opportunities to speak to her outside of class. Whenever I'd pass by her in the hallway, I'd lower my book and wave with a smile. Admittedly, it was a little disconcerting to see the redhead puff out her cheeks, and see her friends snicker in response. I'd even go so far as to say a shy hello.

The head cheerleader in turn rolled her eyes, scoffing, as the other girls muttered demeaning insults. Without so much as a greeting the posse would brush by me, sometimes even shouldering me or knocking my books down. I tried to ignore that part at least. Because at least it wasn't the redhead herself insulting me.

In Chemistry, however, the redhead seemed the complete opposite. She fidgeted in her seat, and kept peeking at me through her soft cherry curtain of hair.

It took me a while to realize that I was staring again. I blinked rapidly, looking down at the periodic table worksheet I neglected. I heard the girl beside me release a heavy sigh. I felt my ears prick, and my head tilt back to gaze at the now flushing girl.

It confused me again. I felt a breath of frustration hit me. I couldn't understand. What was wrong with her?

Perhaps it had been because I was studying her reaction a bit too obviously. I didn't mean to stare so intensely. I just couldn't comprehend why the whole intimidating behavior would just fade away with a simple look.

Staring at the source of my puzzlement in chemistry soon became a routine as well. It was just too hard to resist. How did it never occur to me to observe the mysterious enigma when it was right in front of my eyes?

I noticed how she chewed on her lip when she was nervous. Then she would have to reapply lipstick because she licked it off. I caught the way she flushed from her ears first, and then the crimson color would slowly travel to her light freckled cheeks. I noticed that she would only wear her uniform on game day, with her hair pulled back. How the pleated skirt fluttered against her tanned thigh, as she nervously tapped her foot around. And every day, I felt my eyes linger in that area for little longer than usual.

It wasn't like I was checking her out per say. It was merely observations. And I was _observing_ that Kairi Lockhart was _indeed_ an attractive girl. She had that lovely, lustrous cherry hair that left me feeling slightly self-conscious about my own. Actually, everything about her almost left me feeling self-conscious about myself. From her perfectly golden complexion, to her well endowed chest, to the ridiculously long legs that seemed never ending, and to the delicately heart shaped face that beamed with radiance.

It was only natural to admire a pretty girl, wasn't it?

Said pretty girl toyed with the end of her hair, as she diligently worked on the chemistry worksheet. Her letterman was draped over the back of her chair, and she was sporting her sleeveless uniform. My eyes immediately fell to her hand drifting across the paper, and up and up, until they were resting on her shoulder.

There was a small bruise near her shoulder. She even had the power to make an imperfection seem so perfect. I was engrossed with the purplish discoloration, having the sudden urge to touch it. Could I? Would it seem weird if I just reached out and brushed my fingers against the bruise?

I reached out, but hesitated when the cheerleader turned sharply and met my gaze. Her eyes darted down towards my hand defensively. I pulled it away, and stuffed it into my sweater pocket.

"What happened there?" I muttered shyly, embarrassed that I was caught in the act. Her gaze narrowed suspiciously, as it flickered down to my clammy hand buried in my pocket.

"Cheerleading practice," she answered automatically. Her blue eyes met mine again in an intense stare. The frown that was marring her face faded away slowly, leaving an expression almost like wonderment.

"Nice weather today isn't it - ?" I stopped in my question, when the girl's almost pleasantly confused expression melted into a furious glare. It wasn't very effective considering the fact that she resembled an angry tomato. But I took the hint, and stared at my notebook for the rest of the class.

When the dismissal bell rang, she hurriedly collected her things and hastily sped out of the class room. I heaved a deep sigh, gathering my things slowly. I knew I royally messed things up. Just when I was making progress.

I was the last one out, hauling my bag and a stack of books I insisted upon carrying. I barely made it a step outside of the door, when I felt something yank me off to the right. Nearly tripping over my spilled books, I was shoved into the nearest door.

"Who's-" I started.

"Shut up." Kairi Lockhart snapped, moving around me to yank my bag from around my shoulder. She quickly began stuffing my books into it. "What kind of idiot walks around with ten books in their hands?"

I was too shocked to respond. What just happened?

I glanced around me, taking in my surroundings. Kairi Lockhart dragged me away to throw me into the janitor's closet. I couldn't wrap my head around that idea. When I turned my attention back to the girl, she took a threatening step towards me. I stepped back, hitting the shelf of cleaning supplies. I heard the Lysol bottles falling over.

"Stop staring at me like that." She snarled.

"Like what?"

"Like you're – like you're making some kind of shitty science observation!" She huffed.

I leaned against the shelf, tilting my head to the side at the comment. She promptly turned crimson after that.

"Stop that." She demanded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't – I mean I wasn't aware I made you uncomfortable." I lied through my teeth.

"I didn't say that. Stop putting words in my mouth." She accused furiously.

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but closed it. I pondered my next words carefully, finally realizing that this conversation was slowly turning into a one-sided argument. The redhead looked beyond irritated and flustered.

I looked down awkwardly, feeling my own face flush.

"I'm sorry." I apologized quickly. "I just wanted to – to properly thank you for returning my book."

"You said you wouldn't be able to read it. That's hardly worth a _thank you_."

"Still, it's the thought that counts right?" I added almost sheepishly.

The annoyance that graced her expression faded away. Her knitted brows released tension, and shot upwards. The girl's mouth fell open in shock ungracefully. She stepped back, tripping over one of cleansing bottles. It almost made me chuckle. How could someone with so much poise behave like a clumsy Sora?

The answer struck me in the next second. I found myself beaming wildly.

"Do I make you nervous?" I questioned eagerly. She blinked rapidly, in response.

"No," she snapped, regaining her previous annoyed demeanor. "Look, just stop staring at me like such a creep."

"Okay," I agreed, because I even knew how out of hand the staring had become. The cheerleader nodded her head in acknowledgement. She squared her shoulders, the blush that graced her tanned cheeks slowly disappeared, and her gaze turned cold.

"Don't bring up that whole book thing" – I opened my mouth to protest but she ignored me – " and don't talk to me either."

Her requests were blunt and fierce. Her glare was just as hard. That feeling I felt back in the auditorium, the strange one that formed in my stomach, hit me full force. I didn't know what I wanted to do, just that I wanted to do _something_. She stared at me expectantly, but for what? A protest? A gesture of agreement?

I didn't know what to say – just that whatever it was I didn't think I could've agreed.

"Can't we be friends?" I asked gently. I internally cringed at the tone dripping from my voice; I didn't mean to sound so desperate.

She scoffed. "Are you _stupid_? I'm a cheerleader, and look at you, you're a loser."

The last word pierced a nerve I wasn't aware of. It hurt, hearing the obvious truth come from her mouth. It didn't make sense. Who was she to judge me? She didn't know me. Why was her judgment affecting more than it should be? Was it because she was the only one that showed me some kind of kindness ever since I came to this stupid school?

Maybe it was because I believed she was different. Maybe it was because for a brief second I thought that I would finally have some kind of friendship with her.

Humiliation flooded through my veins faster than the tears that were beginning to form and blur my vision.

"We're never going to be friends," her voice was harsh and cold, and it pounded against me harder than hail in a storm. "So get that stupid idea out of your head."

She brushed by me, before pausing. "And don't follow me after, wait a couple of minutes. I don't want people knowing I was in this closet with you."

She was out the door without another word, leaving me alone in the closet.

I didn't attempt to speak to the head cheerleader after that. I didn't intentionally watch her either. I was angry and confused, and I was _hurt_.

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I made it through the rest of the week in a blur. A lonely blur that I couldn't fix. Books kept me company but it wasn't enough. I wanted friends – _a friend_. Sora Highwind was friendly sometimes, when he wasn't being a cocky pervert, or a complete jerk. I had him for two other classes, which included P.E. and math.

I never really understood why he had a physical education class when he was on the football team, but I never pondered on it too much. According to him, he was the only popular guy in that class, and he was glad when he saw a familiar face – we were always partners. I knew I could never trust him though.

In the next class I shared with him, I also shared with the dreadful redhead. And whenever he was around her, all of the nice thoughts or friendly feelings for him in P.E went down the drain in an instant.

I sighed as I made my way to my locker, setting my books down on the floor. Maybe it was a bit stupid to carry more than one around. Kairi flashed through my head at that thought leaving me frustrated. I angrily opened my locker, and was just about to dump the textbooks in the locker, when something caught my eye.

A brand new copy of _Wuthering Heights_ was neatly lying at the center of my locker. It took me a moment to process it. After a few shell shocked seconds, I hesitantly reached for and picked it up. I scanned the back cover for something – anything to confirm who had given it to me. I knew the instant I opened to the title page and saw _Naminé Strife_ written neatly at the top that it was her.

It was her, and I was ridiculously satisfied with that discovery.

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**Bitchy Kairi. Oh yes. Reviews are cherished and revered, so feel free to drop one by. ;)**

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	6. Chapter 5

**Wow, so I've been gone for quite a while. But summer is here! And I am here! And updates are here!  
>... and...hmm, what else is here?<br>**

**Anyway, the point is I'm back on FF and all this image manager shit is mind-blowing. I'm not quite sure what to think of it yet, but for now, here is the next chapter. A lot more Roxas in this one.  
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**Thank you all for your reviews! It really does make me happy!  
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**Apologies for any typos and/or grammatical errors.  
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**Chapter 5:**

_Senior Year_

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I don't hear the footsteps of the redhead following after me. My jaw unclenches before I realize it was tightly smashed together. The anxiety that had me upright and stiff melts away as the depressing slouch forms on my posture. I quickly stride down the hallway, making a quick right, before I have to hear the auditorium door swinging open. I don't.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch period. I sigh in relief, tightening the strap of my bag. Only two more classes left and I'm out of this hellhole. The brightside is that I don't have to see that disgusting red hair at all anymore.

A shiver runs through my body as the thoughts flit back to my mind. The memory of that fucking sorry expression on her stupid face shovels into my brain like a persistent grave digger. Another shiver, and then I square my shoulders making my way towards my next class.

I feel another wave of relief when I walk into my fifth period class – which really isn't a class. It's the library.

The librarian, a middle aged widow, smiles at me from the desk. For the first time that day, a genuine smile form on my lips. She's a nice lady I guess. And she doesn't give me bullshit for not doing anything, as a T.A.

I read. And she loves me for it.

"Hello." I greet, setting my bag down on the desk.

"Oh, Naminé, hello dear," She greets in return. Her thin lips pull into a smile. And then I kind of forget why I was so worried about. "You have a new assistant." She informs me, as soon as I settle into the chair next to her.

New assistant? What the fu –

"Naminé, so _that's_ your name." My smile falls in an instant, when I hear that irritatingly familiar voice. I whip around immediately, and feel the blood drain out of my face when I see the windswept blond hair, baggy T-shirt, and skateboard.

The fucking new kid. He smiles at me playfully from around the counter. His azure eyes twinkle at me, and a surge of annoyance hits me harder than the anger I felt when talking to Kairi. I don't know what it is. What makes the irritable feeling erupt in my stomach. Or what makes the sudden urge to yank the board out of his hand and whack him over his pretty boy blond head.

"Naminé," he says aloud thoughtfully, as if pondering what to eat next. I grind my teeth together, fuming. "It's nice. It really is."

In my sudden anger, I turn back to the librarian to glare at her. My eyes narrow – as if to demand why she would betray me like this. Why she would let him into my sanctuary? This is my goddamn library. I didn't need another person to be a distraction.

"Why is _he_ here?" I almost growl out, pointing an accusing finger at the amused blond. He waves in response, looking absolutely tickled. As if I poked him in the stomach. I half expected him to make that stupid _Hmmhmm_ noise the Pillsbury Doughboy makes. My glare hardens as I regard him with as much contempt as I can muster. What is this fucking treachery?

His amusement never wavers, and the agitation is unbearable. I sharply turn back to the librarian, before I decide to do something completely stupid.

"Well, I thought you could use some help reading all these books in here." She answers joyously. What was I? Fucking five? The librarian smiles warmly at me again, and I look away, scowling at the desk. The guilt bubbles in the pit of my stomach. Great. Just abso-_fucking_-lutely wonderful.

I'm seething by the time, BHK beams wider and sidles up to me. He takes the empty chair by mine, leaning his board across the counter. Before he has the decency to strike up another conversation, I pull out a book, which happens to be my Pre-Calc book…ugh. I lay it flat against the desk and hover over it. And I even scoot my chair, leaning away from him so he didn't get any brilliant ideas.

Oh, look the librarian conveniently left the desk. That woman is officially evil.

"Soooo I don't mean to be rude, but honestly who reads math problems?" He asks teasingly, breaking me away from my intense…math problem reading. I glower at him sideways, and he shuts his mouth. His lips, however, remain annoyingly upturned. What I wouldn't give to wipe that permanent smile off of his face.

My eyes flicker back to the trig problems. And then –

"You really like to read don't you? I mean, every time I see you, you're with a book," he mutters. "Not that I watch you all the time. Because that's totally weird." He chuckles nervously, and I could almost picture that stupid fucking smile.

I pout angrily, flipping the page a little too harshly.

"I kind of don't like reading." He admits. Blasphemy!

"Why?" I ask before I can think of stopping myself from speaking. He perks up instantly. The twinkle in his eye gleams brightly. His grin is too genuine that it's…distracting again. "Never mind, forget I asked."

Naturally, he ignores my request.

"Too many words and no pictures."

I roll my eyes. I've wasted enough time. With an annoyed look, I grab my stuff and make for the nearest book shelf. The stubborn heavy footsteps of BHK follow quickly afterwards.

"So you ever read Harry Potter?" He asks casually, as I flit through the books. I don't need to see the sign to know I'm in the fiction section. I practically know this library backward and forward, upside down, inside out…whatever.

I ignore him, my fingertips tracing over the spines of the books. Apparently he takes that as I cue to speak.

"I like Harry Potter – well I mean the movies. They're cool." He laughs, rubbing the back of his blond head. "Back home Xion kept telling me the books were totally better, but eh."

I nod my head, half listening.

"Naminé." The sound of my name makes me stop in an instant. It sounds weird, almost foreign hearing it come out of BHK's mouth.

"What?" I demand impatiently.

"Oh, no I was just saying it out loud. You know, testing the waters and stuff." He laughs again. Good naturedly. It's one of those big booming laughs. It echoes throughout the entirety of the library. It's kind of annoying. I almost want to shove his face against the Be Quiet sign taped to the wall, but I don't.

I bite back the snide remark that's forming on my lips. Instead, I settle for an indignant frown, resuming my book browsing. The frown deepens when my finger falls on the spine of a book – a book that brings forth those fucking annoying _Kairi-feelings._ My fingertips trail over the lettering of the small coverless white book.

The frown on my face melts into a grimace, as I tuck my lip beneath my teeth. That clench forms in my chest again, and a wave of utmost dread crashes into me. My finger remains on the spine, as if glued by some unknown force. The cold chill runs through my veins, as I continue to stare at the little white book.

Memories flash through my eyes as if I were watching it on multiple TV's . Those long lazy afternoons spent reading in her bedroom. The softness and scent of her pillow and bedsheets. The gentle weight of her arm across my stomach, and those fingers that used to toy with the buttons of my shirt. The cherry hair that tickled my calm puffs of her breath against my neck, as I would try to keep my composure. _ "Read to me, __**Wendy**__."_

Was this fucking ironic or what?

"I thought _Peter Pan_ was for little kids. Why's it in a high school library?" BHK shatters the painfully lethargic spell I'm under, and my hand bolts away from the book. I glance up at the boy. He's looking at the book curiously, and I'm just too shaken up to come up with a response… or call him a moron. He finally turns his gaze back to me. His goofy grin falters.

"Hey, you okay?" He questions, reaching up to press the back of his hand to my forehead. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I – I'm fine." I mumble out, feeling stupid.

"Maybe it's because you haven't eaten…. Someone _did_ ditch me after all." He adds. I stagger backwards, too thrown off to come up with a response, or a damn apology at the very least. The blond raises a hand, the smile returning on his pale face. "It's okay. I forgive you."

I blink, before slowly returning back to the sour look. And then I resume my book finding, careful to never stumble across _Peter Pan_ again.

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The days move faster than normal. I don't know what is that makes this week go by faster. Is it the unrelenting staring coming from the redhead? Or is it the fact that Roxas has proven to be a decent distraction?

The annoyance that drowns me when I see his happy blond head practically drowns out all of the other pent up anger I have towards the girl.

Speaking of which, the girl has no respect for personal…visual bubbles. Or whatever the fuck you call it. I don't appreciate being stared at all day in class. Especially the worst class ever. I glare at her from over my shoulder for a split second, before turning back to the incomplete worksheet.

Ugh. Math. It really just seems like a foreign language to me. I sigh, fiddling with the pencil. Usually this would be the time I'd take out a book and read except –

"So anyway, yesterday I told Ven not to do it, but did he listen?"

Yeah, _that_.

The biggest distraction ever known to mankind. I stare blankly at my worksheet, as BHK continues to ramble on about his little brother. For a second, curiosity hits me. Was his brother this annoying?

"Naminé"

"Hmm?" I jerk my head upwards, to find the blond smiling at me mischievously.

"No, nothing, just testing it out again."

"Do you know how to do question number four?" I ask flatly, without even looking at the problem. BHK falters, but then looks down at my worksheet.

"Actually, I don't-"

"Are you two doing your work?" The teacher's voice cuts him off, as she springs out by our table like a ninja. Her birdlike face zeroes in on me, and I have a feeling shit's about to go down. I internally sigh. "I've been hearing an awful lot of chatter from you too."

Ahem, no. A lot of chatter from the bozo sitting next to me.

The teacher looks down at my paper with disdain. She scoffs.

"This is almost a lost cause," I hear her mumble under her breath. Bitch. Her head whips around the room as if she heard my thought. However, I soon realize that she's searching.

"Kairi, come assist Ms. Strife." (Notice how she calls Kairi by her first name...bitch).

My blood freezes immediately. I hear the chair scrape as she gets up, and the light padding of her flats. I study the paper in front of me, resisting from glancing up at the redhead who's suddenly appeared at my side.

"Pull up a chair." The teacher says, then lowers her voice so only the three of us can hear. "It's going to be tough work. It seems that Ms. Strife here can't tell between what's negative and positive."

I pout, feeling my cheeks burn in humiliation. I knew there was another reason why I hated this bitch.

She chortles as if she just said one of those fucking knee slapper jokes. Kairi is silent. BHK swivels in his seat, knocking his board off of his lap. The sudden clash of the board grabs my attention.

"What kind of teacher are you?" He demands angrily.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Now why don't you go back and grade your little papers while you leave a student struggling to learn the material." He spat.

"Why, you! Do you think because you're new I am going to ignore what you just said?"

"Why not? I mean you're doing a pretty good job ignoring Naminé, judging by how lost she is –"

"Roxas!" Kairi hisses warningly. The sudden clarity and closeness of her voice startles me. I almost forgot she was there. Breaking my initial rule, my eyes flicker in her direction. Her eyes are hard and aggressive, as she glares at the blond. I'm reminded briefly of her Kairi-bitch face. An unsettling feeling churns in the pit of my stomach.

The redhead turns to the teacher, her face already breaking into that polite smile. "I apologize for his rude behavior. Don't worry; we understand that you're a very busy woman. I can help Naminé during our free period."

The teacher visibly relaxes, before staring coldly at Roxas. Her icy eyes are frozen into this permanent evil face. "Very well, Roxas, come with me." She turns on her heel and walks back to her desk.

The blond sags in his seat, bringing a hand to his face.

"Oh, great." He groans. He turns to me, with a pout. But then, a smile breaks out on his face as he places a hand tentatively on my shoulder. I don't shrug away, so he takes that as an invitation to give me a reassuring squeeze. And surprisingly it is reassuring. "I'll see you later." He adds, before rising from his seat and leaving the two of us alone.

I hear the scrape against the linoleum floor, as she pulls the nearest chair to my desk. I feel her knee brush against my thigh, and immediately I jump as if electrocuted. Kairi flinches away as well.

She clears her throat awkwardly, pulling my worksheet to her face, careful not to accidently touch me again. My leg is still burning through my jeans.

I intake sharply – with a careful breath as I scrutinize the redhead. I can already hear the whispers throughout the classroom at the beautiful, perfect head cheerleader talking to the school's freak. If Kairi can hear it as well (which I'm pretty sure she can), she doesn't show it. Instead, she concentrates hard on reviewing my work – or lack of work.

My eyes rake her focused face, searching for something. I don't know what. Maybe some kind of indication that she might be – might've been as affected by the break up. Not that I'm depressed over it. Nope.

I move my eyes over the smooth heart shaped face, taking in the light make-up applied, covering the freckles I used to count. My gaze traces her hair that's pinned back, falling a little past her shoulders. It's still shiny, and it's still perfect, not a strand out of place. I feel myself involuntarily studying her mouth. Her bottom lip nervously tucked beneath her pearly white teeth. Her tongue darts out quickly, licking her lips, effectively wiping the gloss off, before they mash together in a straight line.

Her physical appearance is as impeccable as when I first met her…and that makes me livid.

She places the worksheet carefully back on the desk, reaching hesitantly for my pencil, and starts writing. I raise an eyebrow at her, attention flickering back towards to the teacher in the back who's giving Roxas a long lecture. He's frowning comically, and I weirdly resist the urge to laugh.

When he catches my eye, he beams, and winks conspiratorially.

"So, um," Kairi starts, and unintentionally my focus reverts back to her. She's hesitating. "How – how _are_ you?"

The familiar tightening of my chest forms when Kairi finally looks up from the worksheet, and rests her gaze on me. The stoic expression that was painted across her face has softened, as if by magic. Her lips, however, remain a frown – this time with dissatisfaction. We both silently stare at each other, sizing one another up. Taking in the sudden closeness that we have.

I blink rapidly, panic stricken at start of this conversation I've been dreading. What did I expect?

For a moment I'm silent. For a moment I don't even know how to answer because I don't know the answer. I feel angry? Irritated? Bitter? Exhausted… _hurt_?

"I fail to see how that is any of your business." I say in a clipped tone, when I gain the ability to form words. Kairi bows her head, nodding once.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," she stops, looking up at me from beneath her eyelashes. The look catches me off guard for a moment. It's familiar and so fucking reminiscent that I start to feel that lung compressing sensation.

"Where do you need help?" She whispers cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal. Anger cuts through me as I finally hear her voice. It's laced with this underlying sadness that I can't fathom. I don't understand it. What the fuck is she going to gain by pretending to be sad?

"I don't _need_ your help." I snarl lowly. The redhead winces. It's slight but I notice.

She opens her mouth to respond but then is interrupted by a –

"That witch," Roxas, occupies the seat next to me, slamming the pink detention slip down on the desk. "totally gave me detention all week. Can you believe this?"

We're both quiet as the boy goes on his mini rant. Kairi's knee brushes against my leg again, and from the uncertain expression on her face I know that move wasn't accidental. I effectively scoot my chair away. My stomach flops at the stupid fake hurt look that I've seen before on her face.

_Get the fuck out of here_. I want to say. I want to say it so badly. I want to do something so spontaneously fucked up to her that she'd just leave me alone afterwards.

Kairi shoots me a puzzled look, making me question how crazy my own expression must look-

"You _okay_?" The blond beside me asks, confirming my thoughts. I narrow my eyes at the redhead briefly, before turning to look at the skater, fixing my composure instantly.

The concern on his face radiates sincerity that it's refreshing, relieving almost. It's as if he's used a needle to poke a hole in my angsty stressed out bubble… Not to mention he rescued me from even more public humiliation less than a few minutes ago.

"Yes," I mumble, with a soft smile. "Thank you – for that." I add, referring to said rescue.

The blond's worried expression breaks out into a huge mega watt grin. "No problem!"

"I thought we were here to do math." An annoyed voice breaks our exchange of smiles. Oh, shit! The smile falls away in an instant, as I glance at back at Kairi, who's leaning over my table, as if she's going to pounce. Her eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pinched together in irritation, and her now freshly glossed pink lips are twisted into a frown.

"It's okay Kairi! I think I can teach her." He assures, pulling my worksheet to his desk. The redhead snatches the paper in the next moment.

"You can barely help yourself, Roxas." She sneers.

"Well, I don't think your boyfriend likes to be away from you for too long." Roxas adds brightly. As if on cue, we all turn to Sora who conveniently has that dopy worried expression on his face. The face of a puppy waiting at the door as the master leaves. I think I can hear him whining. Ugh, so pathetic. I make a fake gagging noise to Roxas, who laughs. Kairi is clearly not amused. Angrily, she scoots her chair closer to my chair.

"He'll manage." She answers dryly.

"I hope so." The blond muses.

She glares at him for a good five seconds before looking down at my paper. "Okay, so where are you stuck?"

"I think she asked me about question four-"He started.

"Thank you for telling me, _Naminé_." She spits sarcastically.

"Anytime, Kai."

I watch as the blond boy smiles, infuriating the redhead even more. It's like a one-sided tennis match. Like an old married couple. The once entertaining banter seems too _personal_ now. I would find it amusing, so amusing if I didn't suddenly feel angry. I begin just to feel as annoyed with Roxas as Kairi looks. The way he's talking to her – _condescending_. And the nickname! What the fuck is _Kai_? Without any kind of warning, I want him to leave. At the same time the thought of him leaving has me terrified as well.

Kairi fumes, opening her mouth to retort, but the sound of the dismissal bell drowns the words out. The class is in chaos as they head for the doorway. Our table is the only one that hasn't readily reacted.

It isn't until Sora lopes over, holding Kairi's bag with him like a little bus boy. She doesn't notice him, not until he speaks to her and offers his hand. Her glare is directed to Roxas, but at the very last second, her eyes flit back to me. Her expression becomes inscrutable, and then she walks out of the class, Sora in tow.

.

.

I don't talk to BHK – _Roxas_ – in the library, because he's too busy trying to acquit himself out of that bitch math teacher's detention. It's not like I would've talked to him even if he was present. But there was still that one question that was burning in the back of my head ever since I met him.

How does he know Kairi Lockhart?

I think back to the conversation in math. How, despite the argument, the two were so comfortable around each other. Like they've known each other forever. Like they had history…

Roxas forms in my head, as I try to remember his physical appearance. The amused grin on his pale pretty boy face, the perfectly styled blond surfer hair, tall form, good posture, bright white set of teeth. Apparent skills with a skateboard. Good manners, considerate, sweet. Relatively good looking.

The guy is practically the poster boy for teenage male perfection.

They _must've_ dated. She must've dumped him because well, come on he's a boy. And he's probably still harboring some remaining feelings for that heartbreaking devil woman.

I feel my anger start to boil, and a sense of betrayal hits me square in the chest.

.

.

When I get home, I don't know what possesses me to log on to _Facebook_ immediately. I knew exactly what I'd find there. What I find there almost every day. But I'm on a mission.

The blue titled login screen opens up on my computer. I quickly type in my username and password, and wait until the damn dinosaur loads. No notifications – expected. There is a friend request, but it isn't important right now. I'm a mad woman driven to do something. As quickly as possible, I scroll down my depressingly small friend list, until I _find Kairi Lockhart_. Her stupid time-line shit pops up, and I resist the urge to write something along the lines of 'leave me the fuck' alone on her wall. I don't think she'd appreciate that much.

I hover over the Unfriend button. With a newfound determination, I press it – a little too aggressively. The _Facebook_ notification box informs me that the request has been administered and a low breath of relief escapes my mouth. It's pathetic to even still be cyber friends with that bitch. But what's even more fucking pathetic is how worked up I got over _Facebook_. What has this age come to?

I sit staring at the newsfeed screen, before I begin unfriending practically the whole list, until I'm down to 0. Maybe I should just delete this damn account. The friend request notification suddenly grabs my attention again.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I click on it…. Oh, why am I even surprised? I roll my eyes as I glance at the name.

**Roxas Lockhart.** Confirm. Not Now.

Wait what?

Roxas… Roxas _Lockhart_?

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**More conflict. Yep. Intense O.O**

**Reviews are appreciated :P Thanks for reading!  
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	7. Chapter 6

**Hello readers! I'm trying to update as frequently as I can, which I know I've been sucking at. I'm trying!**

**Anyway, it's late, and I really should be asleep right now, but I wanted to get this in first. (That's what she said). So here it is! Not much to say. Expect some yuri...because this is a yuri story. That is all.  
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**: **I couldn't reply to your review through pm, so I'll just thank you here. Thanks! :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

_Junior Year  
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I was careful in Chemistry. I was careful with the way I approached her. I had it all planned out the night after I found the book in my locker. Except when I sat down, and saw her diligently focused on her work, my whole plans flew out the window. A deep nervous flush overwhelmed me, as I tentatively tapped her on the shoulder. Bad move.

She stiffened instantly, before slowly craning her neck to look at me. Her expression was deadly, and I nearly flinched.

"_What?" _She hissed – angrily, impatiently, anxiously.

"I, um, wanted to thank you for the book." I stammered out nervously. Kairi's blue eyes widened slightly, before narrowing into tiny accusing slits. Her mouth pulled downward into a dissatisfied frown. Her brows knitted together into a frustrated crease.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped, turning back to her work. I coughed, interrupting her attempt at redirecting her attention. She stopped mid-turn, and gave me a sideways glance.

"You bought me a new copy of-" I started, taking out my book, but her hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere and clamped tightly around my wrist.

"Don't take that out. Are you _stupid_?" She was in hysterics. Her pale, composed face was angry and borderline magenta. However, my entire focus zeroed in on the soft hand that was tightly gripping my wrist. Flames erupted immediately, traveling up my arm. It was unnerving, yet fascinating at the same time. I found myself staring intently down at our hands.

Kairi followed my line of sight, and with a slight gasp pulled her hand away as if she'd been burned.

I stared at her intensely, watching as her frightened look faded into a nasty glare.

"Keep that book inside your bag," Kairi said dangerously.

"Why?"

"Because people can see it!"

I frowned, watching as she occasionally glanced around the room. Her eyes flickered to the nearest cheerleader – that girl _Selphie_.

"I just want to thank you for, for doing this." I muttered imploringly. "Why are you – why are you being this way?"

"For doing what? I didn't _do_ anything," she retorted, sounding incredibly annoyed. "And what part of _leave me alone_ don't you understand?"

I shut my mouth the rest of the class. I couldn't help the miserable frown that was already forming on my miserable face.

Getting Kairi Lockhart to admit that it was she who had planted the copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in my locker proved to be a troubling feat.

What was more troubling was the way the cheerleader began to ignore my very presence. I knew I should've been used to this – I should've _accepted_ the nasty shove she gave me in the closet. Yet, replacing my book only seemed to want me to become her friend even more. It was almost like a hook bringing me back to the surface.

Why did she do it? It obviously meant something – going out of her way to replace the book her horrible friends ruined.

.

.

So I tried harder. I tried to inconspicuously follow her to class. It wasn't that inconspicuously, because every time I was caught, one of the girls that was with her would laugh. On one occasion, Selphie caused a big scene in the hallway.

"Look at that Kairi, you're number one fan!" The brunette cackled, jerking an ugly thumb in my direction. I scowled, blushing, before burying my nose in my book. Kairi scowled back, looped her arm with the other girl and continued on.

Eventually, Kairi cottoned on because she began taking detours to her classes.

Thus, my stalking was put to a miserable end.

.

.

During P.E., I stared reverently at the neat handwriting in the book. My name spelled out in such angelic script – it almost seemed like a dream. I tucked my bottom lip beneath my teeth, as I tried to hide the smile that was begging to form across my face.

"Hey watch out there Nami!"

I didn't even have the time to look up before something hard and rubbery knocked me right in the forehead. I toppled over the bleacher, dropping my book across the shiny wooden floor of the gym. A volleyball bounced off to the side innocently, as I heard the heavy footsteps of Sora Highwind making his way towards me.

His laugh was more like a snicker, and then a hiccup. Such an annoying laugh. I winced; rubbing my head and sitting straight back up. His shiny, cerulean blue eyes crinkled in amusement as he took in my disheveled appearance. I dizzily looked up at him, the two Sora's came into focus after a few seconds.

"Sorry," he murmured. "But why'd you bring a book to P.E. – that really doesn't make any sense."

I brought a hand to her forehead, gingerly brushing her fingertips against the sore spot.

_I really hope it doesn't bruise._

Before I knew it, the brunet bent down, reaching between the bleachers to pick up my book. Anxiety flooded my body as he glanced at it curiously. I snatched it back from him before he could open it up. Surely he would've recognized Kairi's handwriting –

"Funny, I could've sworn I saw Kairi buying this book the other day…" He mumbled, looking at my book with interest. I set it down on the seat beside me to direct his attention elsewhere. It worked. He didn't really have all that much of an attention span.

"So anyway Nami, you've totally got to work on your serve. I saw it the other day and it like…really lame." He commented petulantly, grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the net. I grabbed my book, and let myself be dragged.

Sora demonstrated a _perfect_ serve (which ended up with the volleyball taking a kamikaze dive towards the net). I watched him warily as he cursed a storm, bouncing the ball roughly and repeated the process. After five minutes of watching Sora turn into a raging bull at his failure of being a good server, I let my eyes glance around the gym.

Everyone was in different groups practicing their bumps and serves, but occasionally they'd peek at Sora and I. With a slight frown I turned back to Sora who was currently threatening the volleyball. I had a tiny hunch as to why we were getting curious stares. It wasn't everyday a popular boy would talk to someone the school deemed as unworthy… Well if my education in the film industry was up to speed.

"Hah! I got you now you little sucker!" Sora cheered as the ball skimmed the top of the net…and then bounced out of the courts. "Eh, whatever, it went over the net. Still counts."

He turned to me with a cheeky grin, before reaching down to hand me a ball. I took it.

"Sora," I hesitated, glancing down at the thick black, bold _Wilson_ spelled across the padded ball. For some strange reason I thought back to Cast Away. Poor Tom Hanks. I had a sudden urge to cuddle the ball, but when I looked up at the brunet he was already staring at me with an impatient expression. "Why do you – I mean why do you bother talking to me in this class?"

He looked confused. Confused as if I asked him a really hard philosophical question. His blue eyes squinted, his lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed and his whole expression reeked of someone who was constipated.

"I think you're cool." He answered honestly after what felt like a whole ten minutes. His expression cleared up, and I was surprised to find genuine sincerity in his tanned face. He really meant that. He really thought I was cool, and worthy of hanging out with and speaking to. It felt like an immense revelation. I could use him – well not in a _mean_ way. But I could use him to get closer to Kairi. They were good friends anyway, and if I became friends with Sora I'd surely –

"Yeah but don't tell anyone I said that." The brunet adds in a hasty, urgent undertone. "I'd totally look like a loser if everyone found out I like you."

My smile fell.

"Then why are you speaking to me now, in public –"

"Don't be stupid, Nami, this isn't public. These losers listen to what I say," he declares, gesturing towards the people in the gym. "And if I don't want any of the cool people finding out, then they won't."

I tried not to be offended by his statement. What could I expect from this egotistical jerk? If anything I rolled my eyes. And I had the urge to tell him off for that stupid nickname. Nami. Really?

I didn't have the heart to say anything though. Especially not when he smiled innocently at me. He was just an oblivious idiot.

I sighed, turning away from him and serving the ball. It went over on the first try. So much for my befriending Sora plan.

_Wait_

"Sora, what do you know about Kairi Lockhart?" I asked as he handed me another ball (sourly, I might add). His usually vacant eyes sharpened defensively, protectively, as if he were trying to enforce that fact that she was his property.

I was careful with my words. I didn't need an upset Sora Highwind, and admittedly his half friendship felt good. He was nice…most of the time, even if he was a little stupid.

His eyes narrowed, as I struggled for a response.

"I just, um, I just noticed that you – you like her, don't you?" I tried the questioning approach. His suspicious expression fell away abruptly, and it was replaced with a look of satisfaction.

"That's right!" He exclaimed. "She's going to be mine." He deflated a little. "Well, when she says yes to a date."

I fed on to his insecurity.

"See, if I become friends with her, I can so try to hook you two up." I lied, internally wondering how easy it was to lie to such a clueless boy. "That's why I need to know stuff about Kairi."

"You'd really do that?"

"Sure! That's what secret P.E. friends are for."

Sora's face split into a huge grin. "I knew you were cool Nami."

I smiled in return, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. I was deceiving the brunet, using him just as a method of gain. Was I that desperate to know the girl? Was I that desperate to go against my morals of friendship just to talk to a girl who wanted nothing to do with me?

"So the first thing you need to know about Kairi is that she can be a moody bitch sometimes."Sora explained.

Yes, yes this was so worth it.

"Usually she's in an okay mood, but whenever she's mad, she's super scary. You might want to stay clear of her around those times."

I nodded my head, eagerly. I almost felt like running into the changing room to dig out a notebook and pen.

"Kairi's smart too. I mean she probably has straight A's and stuff. Sometimes she likes to use big words that kind of gets confusing. So my advice, carry a dictionary with you." He warned me. I didn't have the heart to tell him I had the app on my phone.

"She's also the head cheerleader, even though she's like the youngest on the team. That's cool and that's what makes her the hottest and most popular girl in the school."

"How old is she?" I asked, curious.

"Fifteen."

I felt myself droop at this. _Fifteen_? That must have meant she was a sophomore. Not that being a 10th grader was bad…

"You know, I think you're going to have to do more than trying to memorize Kairi-trivia. You need to do something, like, cool," Sora said thoughtfully, when I said nothing.

"What do you mean?"

I turned to him curiously, my expression slowly turning flat at his suddenly lecherous looking smile.

"You need to join the cheerleaders."

.

.

I pondered Sora's advice. Was it a trick? Was it another way to humiliate the new girl? I felt myself sigh, and then I sipped on my chocolate milk. I swung my legs against the edge of the stage, occasionally picking at my sandwich. My newly acquired book was planted safely on my lap.

And what about myself? Was I willing to risk my own – well – _sanity_ by joining the very people who pushed me around when I first started this school year?

I toyed with pages of my book. I stared at the title page. What would these characters do?

Heathcliff wasn't good enough for Catherine, status wise. Almost similar to my current situation. So what did he do? He went, worked, and made himself a gentlemen.

I sipped my chocolate milk again, feeling a slow smile creep on my face. Maybe that was my problem. Maybe Sora and Heathcliff _were_ right. My status here at this school was so bad, I needed to… _reinvent_ myself.

I set the carton down, buried my book in my bag, and hurried out of the auditorium. I remembered seeing something about cheerleading tryouts on a flyer.

If a cheerleader was what Kairi Lockhart wanted, then by god, was she going to get one.

.

.

"What the hell is this?" Selphie demanded, nearly spitting out her water. She rounded on the nearest girl who happened to be Kairi. The redhead face palmed, looking more like a tomato by the second.

I shifted my weight between my feet, as I watched the girls nervously. The September sun beat against my face uncomfortably, when I stood at the feet of the cheerleading squad at tryouts.

Selphie was a raging bull, pointing furiously at me, while demanding an answer out of the head cheerleader.

"What the _hell_ is she doing here, Kairi?" The sandy-haired girl cried out, nearly spitting at me.

"I'll take care of this." The redhead whispered in an undertone, her cold blue eyes never leaving mine. I swallowed thickly, watching as the head cheerleader walked around the long foldable table, across the short gap between me and the rest of the girls, and stopped a few feet away from me.

She put her hands on her hips, before gesturing me to follow her. I traced her footsteps, as she led me off the football field. I ignored Selphie and the other girls' snickering when I passed the table. Kairi's stride was quick, crossing the dirt track field, and into the nearest hallway. She looked over her shoulders both ways, I tried to copy but before I could glance over one shoulder, she was pushing me into the nearest door.

The door closed with a loud thud.

"What do you think you're doing?" Her voice was accusing. I peeked timidly around my surroundings, half expecting to be in another closet, but my sight was welcomed with the clean, pristine cheerleaders' locker room.

"I-I-"

"You can't do this! You can't just go around stalking me everywhere I go. _Naminé_, this has to stop." She sounded distressed, paranoid even. But I wasn't preoccupied with the tone of her voice. Oh, no, no, no. She said my name. She said my name, and it was ridiculous how much of _something_ I felt when my name was uttered from her glossed lips. It was ridiculous how much my own lips were practically begging to split open and beam. Her usual well placed hard glare was replaced with a look of confusing anguish.

Worry was etched upon her pretty face that it made me worry. It concerned me. Whatever it was that was bugging her, I just wanted it to go away.

"I know you said you couldn't be seen with a loser like me, but – but that's why I'm doing this." I said quickly. The redhead looked at me incredulously.

"Why are you trying so hard?" She demanded angrily. Her temper flared suddenly, leaving me shocked for a moment. It was like some sort of switch was flipped. She stomped closer to me; her fists were clenched at her sides. I backed up warily.

"I just – I just want to be your friend." I whispered back pleadingly.

I stepped back, she stepped twice forward furiously. The process repeating until I was pressed against the nearest locker. The combination dug harshly into my back, as the redhead continued to advance upon me, until we were nearly nose to nose.

"I don't _want_ to be your friend," she hissed back, her voice dangerously low. I shrank even farther into the locker. The combo lock was seriously going to bruise my back. Kairi narrowed her eyes, as they bored into mine. Her stare was intense and dark. The usual shining tint of her blue eyes were blackened out, and looked more like molten rocks.

The dark coals studied my face (which was burning up fervently), occasionally flickering up and down. It vaguely reminded me of a predator, but I was too dazed and flustered to really consider the fact that I was the trapped prey.

"Why-" I squeaked.

"_Because!_" She breathed out anxiously.

"_Because_ wha-" My question was completely cut off, by something I should've seen coming, considering how close the girl was. I didn't even get to finish the second word before the head cheerleader, _Kairi Lockhart_ kissed me.

I didn't even exactly understand what was going on. My clammy hands were pressed flat against the cold locker, making me shiver, however the warmth radiating from her touch sent a hot trickle throughout me in an instant.

Her hands clutched at my sweater sleeves, nails digging into my skin. Her eyes were closed. I could almost count all of the freckles on her face – one, two, three, four…

I felt her breath shudder against my frozen lips, and then her mouth worked around mine again.

Five, six, seven –

And then I was shoved harshly sideways.

"What the _fuck_?"

Perturbed, I glanced upward to find the redhead, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were wild – _scared_. She blinked rapidly, backing away from me as if I had the black plague. She stumbled backwards, falling against the tiled wall, eyes still wide with fright.

She looked around quickly, before turning back to me. Her face was crimson, as she pointed a trembling finger at me.

"Y-you! You – you kissed me!" She cried out.

"W-wuhh?" I stammered, bewildered. I shook my head, shaking out the stupor. "I – _you_ kissed _me_!"

"You're a fucking liar!" She accused furiously. "How – how dare you!"

"What do you mean?" I demanded, standing up, feeling offended. "I _just_ saw you do it!"

"Stay the fuck away from me!" She warned, turning on her heel, and running out the door. I watched her go, my mouth literally hanging open. Was she serious? Was… what the heck just happened?

I glanced around the room, without really seeing it. A flood of things hit me all at once.

_Kairi Lockhart just kissed me. Kairi Lockhart didn't have a boyfriend. Kairi Lockhart constantly rejects Sora's advances._

Was she – was she not the entirely straight, head cheerleader I had her painted out to be?

The image of her face up close was burned into my mind. My lips tingled (and by extension every other part of my body) at the memory of her touch. I licked my lips involuntarily, tasting the strawberry lip gloss smeared across my mouth. If it were possible, my face flamed hotter than before.

Any of the questions I had about Kairi Lockhart, seemed to multiply after this. And the answers I thought I initially had seemed to minimize every passing second. But I was sure of one answer, whatever Kairi's intentions were, I enjoyed that _kiss_ a lot more than I should have, and that may not have been a good thing. No, not a good thing at all.

.

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**And then, the pace of the story has been rigged with jetpacks so it rocket through the plot. Heh, so anyway, thank you for reading! Next update shall be soon - if all goes well! Good night...or good morning, I should say!**

**Reviews = love.  
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	8. Chapter 7

**Hello my lovely readers! Yikes! This is a very, very late update. I apologize! I was kind of in a funk, but hopefully that's all sorted and now I can get back to writing. I'm so thankful for all of your reviews! And I really am sorry if I don't personally thank you for your review all the time. I'm a disorganized mess! D: But it still doesn't mean I don't appreciate them! I do! So thank you :)**

**RokuNami development :D  
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**I apologize for any typos, spelling and/or grammatical errors.  
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**I hope you enjoy!  
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**Chapter 7**

_Senior Year_

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Those two are _related_? Oh god.

Wake me from this horrible nightmare. I must be dreaming. I must been in some fucking shitty Twilight Zone fantasy. I almost expect to hear that creepy narrator's voice. I almost anticipate my vision to suddenly shift into black and white. Except it doesn't, and I'm still here gaping like a moron at my computer screen.

What. The. Fuck.

My hand guides the mouse pad to Roxas Lockhart's profile, the picture simply shows him doing some stupid skateboard trick. I'm about to click on the rest of his albums before I stop myself. I let out an anguished growl that would probably look comical to outside onlookers. I quickly glance around, thankful that I'm alone before snapping my laptop shut.

I throw myself against my bed and groan out in almost a temper tantrum. _Related_. RELATED!

I glare at the ceiling, as the thoughts continue to rage in my head like a thunderstorm. Related.

_Well, you've got one question answered._

But _how_ were they related?

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated.

Maybe I am overreacting a bit. Who cares if they're related? It doesn't mean anything. It's not like I'm suddenly going to begin talking to that fire crotch bitch again, and it's not like I'm going to be all chummy chummy with blond boy wonder. You know what; never mind, for all I know they probably aren't related. Nope. Lockhart is a pretty common name, right?

I sigh, sinking into my duvet, feeling a little reassured.

I will walk through those hallways of that hellhole without the slightest care in the world.

.

Dinner is the same usual annoying routine.

All electronics/phones/etc are forbidden at the table, in some kind of cliché way of family bonding. It's usually my mother and father exchanging work stories. Cloud never talks, unless he's asking someone to pass the salt. And it's become especially awkward because I've stopped pitching in on these lovely family discussions.

I think my parents have already learned not to ask me anymore. When asked how my day was, I usually always gave the same response.

"It was okay." I mumble, when my mom questions. Probably out of courtesy, since the last time she asked was about a week ago. I poke the chicken on my plate with my fork absently.

"Say, Naminé," Dad starts. I lift my gaze from my dinner plate to him. "I haven't heard you talk about Kairi in a…" He trails off, when my mother shoots him a glare. The atmosphere at the dinner table suddenly turns cold. My mother glances at me sympathetically. Cloud glares at his plate. My father flushes, looking around at everyone confused.

I look back down at my chicken, trying to hide my frustrated expression. It's not really his fault. I never really told him what happened with Kairi, not even my mom knows the whole story with her. Except –

My eyes flicker towards Cloud, who's watching me carefully. I think my brother, on the other hand, had a pretty solid idea of what was going on. He's observant, and maybe if he knew how to knock he wouldn't have found out. I feel my face burn with embarrassment at the memory, and the look he's giving me. As if he knows _exactly_ what I'm remembering.

The conversation ends as soon as it starts. The rest of dinner goes by with only the sounds of chewing, and the scrape of the forks. I swallow my food, despite the loss of my appetite.

.

.

The next morning, I slip my bag over my shoulders and rush out the door to meet Cloud by his monster. The warm summer weather is fading. I can feel it. I can always tell when the temperature has dropped in this town. It's very different to that of the Islands, where it never really dropped below 70 degrees.

I sigh through my nose, leaning against the car. It's too late to go back inside for a sweater anyway, because Cloud is walking towards the driver's side. His regards me with a calculating stare, before opening the door and slipping inside. I follow suit.

He pulls out, and soon he's driving down the street.

"It's getting colder." His voice is quiet – as usual. I hug my bag, stretching out my legs, until my knees hit the glove compartment.

"Yeah I know." I mutter coolly.

The school comes into our view. I move my bag off of my lap.

"Drop me off a block away." I request. The same request I make daily. His hand grips the steering wheel tightly, deliberately driving down the school's street. "Cloud!"

He ignores me.

"What the hell?" I demand, but he continues to drive until he parks near the south gate. My temperature rises furiously at his disobedience. I want to yell at him. I want him to pull out and drop me off a fucking block away from this goddamn dump like I told him to. "I said I wanted to be dropped off a block away!"

"Why?" His voice cuts right through mine, and for once it overpowers mine.

"What do you mean why?" I cry out. "Maybe it's because of your shitty car!"

His turns his head slowly, scrutinizing me. I feel like he's x-raying me. His gaze moves, slides over my face, looking over my head. I whip around to follow his line of sight and regret it almost instantly. Kairi Lockhart clad in her perfect, pristine cheerleading uniform is watching us from her little circle of followers.

"Please don't do anything." I murmur out halfheartedly. Cloud scoffs, revving up the engine again.

"Stop protecting her."

.

.

I don't think too much into what Cloud said before dropping me off. If I do, I know I'd start over analyzing it, and over analyzing anything that has to do with her always sets me in a bad mood. Still, I can't help but be slightly bothered. Cloud doesn't usually talk and when he does it's usually something imperative. It's never random or meaningless.

Blah. I shake my head, adjusting the strap of my bag, as I walk down the hallway to my first class.

You know, scratch that, I don't even know why I bother trying to stay in a good mood when I know I'm going to hell at the beginning of the day. Except today it doesn't exactly feel like hell. I hate to admit to the slight excitement that bubbles in the pit of my stomach. It's irritating to know why the excitement is there. It's not like I actually enjoy Roxas's presence. It's just different. My meticulously crafted routine that I've developed is changing.

Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe I need to change out of this post-angsty bitch, and try –

I stop in my thoughts.

The _Facebook_ screen burns behind my eyes like an unwanted dentist appointment reminder.

Lockhart. _Roxas _Lockhart.

The name quiets the excitement, until it turns into a dull ache. That name. It really all comes back to Lockhart. I swear it'll haunt me for the rest of my life.

I near the classroom door in record time, which is fucking annoying because it's the last place I want to be right now.

My heart nearly comes to a barreling stop when I walk into my math class. Occupying my neighboring seat is none other than Kairi fucking Lockhart.

I walk slowly to my seat, standing over our table defensively. She notices my presence almost immediately . Her head tilts up and she gives me that fucking polite smile. The one that just gets under my skin.

I grit my teeth, tightening my hands into fists.

"This isn't your seat." I say in a low voice. Kairi's smile falters slightly. A guilty look flits through her eyes, and it just makes me sick.

"I spoke with the teacher, and she agreed to exchanging my seat for," an annoyed flash flickers in her expression. "Roxas's."

Speaking of whom, the blond had yet to show up. For the first time I was anxious, and impatiently waiting for his arrival. Mostly because he would tell her off, since I obviously can't.

"Why are you sitting here?" I demand sourly. Kairi shoots me one of her infamous polite smiles again, and I nearly want to rip my hair out.

"I offered to help you with your math, and I'm going to stand by my word." She says with conviction. As if she's proving some kind of fucking point. I don't exactly know what, but it still frustrates me.

The bell rings, startling me out of my glower. A few seconds after the ring, Roxas comes bounding in, skateboard in tow.

"Late!" the teacher cries out, shooing him out the door to get a tardy slip. His eyes seek mine briefly, and he smiles out a greeting. It's a little shocking how easily I want to return the smile. But then I remember who this guy is, and who he could potentially be related to. My half smile, melts into a full on glare.

"Strife! If you're going to take a seat, then take one, or else get a tardy slip."

I scowl, hesitating. My gaze flickers from the impatient teacher to the ever so fucking patient expression of Kairi. I carefully take my seat, making sure that I'm at the farthest end of my table as possible. I really didn't need any more _accidental_ knee brushing.

My posture is completely rigid, when I pull out the things from my bag. I stack my notebook and textbook off to the side, and opt to pulling out a book I packed ahead of time.

I can feel her eyes on me. It makes me fumble with opening the front cover. It makes me nearly miss my dog-eared bookmark when I flip through the pages. Once I realize I missed my spot, I stupidly turn the pages back (hoping she didn't notice, but I know she did), I hear her cough politely. It makes my skin crawl angrily, and burn with embarrassment.

My eyes dart in her direction harshly. She smiles at me pointedly. I know I should've been used to being in this close proximity of her smile at this time, but I swear I still feel that dizzying choking sensation….that's shortly followed by the urge to slap her.

"What?" I bark, when I know she isn't going to speak first. The smile falls, and she averts her gaze sheepishly.

"I, um, don't think that's the best thing to do when the teacher is going to begin her lecture." Kairi whispers timidly. It pisses me off when she says that. It's the way she says it. As if she were the victim and I was the fucking bad guy. My glare turns hard in an instant. "You need to pass this class." She continues, after coughing uncomfortably.

I slam my book shut, and fully turn in my seat.

"I don't need you to tell me what I need to do." I spit. Kairi snaps her mouth shut. It looks more like a pout, and I really do hate the way it makes my stomach flutter. I despise it. I'd rather feel that horrible tightness in my chest than the damn butterflies.

She bows her head, and looks down at the notebook in front of her, ending our conversation. I sigh through my nose, relieved.

The teacher takes her position at the front of the class, her back turned on us. Her arm is outstretched across the whiteboard as she scribbles out various formulas that I honestly don't have the slightest clue as to what they mean.

The squeak of the marker against the board annoys me, but it's nowhere near the sudden _psst_ noises that are coming from a few seats away. I don't even have to turn to know who exactly is making that noise.

"Psst! Kairi, hey, Kairi!" Sora Highwind hisses in our direction. I glance at the redhead. Her face is remote, but her hand is shaking against the notebook paper. It's a dead giveaway, showing how annoyed I know she really is. Not that I care or anything.

Sora calls out for her again. The redhead's pencil tightens, as she slams it on the table, and whirling her head around to glare at the brunet.

"What is it?"

"Babe, why are you sitting over there?" He whines, leaning over his desk. I don't know what it is exactly, the whining, or the fucking pet name that makes me so aggravated. I resist the desire to throw something at him. "You're – you're sitting next to _her_."

My lips thin into a tight line at his words. He says them so openly, as if I'm not sitting a seat next to Kairi, as if no one in the class is listening to every word he's saying. I glance at Kairi, and it looks like she's thinking the same thing, because her glare turns furious.

Sora shrinks away from the dirty look, and bows his head in defeat. I want to roll my eyes at the gesture. Why doesn't she put a fucking leash on the guy already?

Kairi turns back around just in time for the teacher to start her lecture. More foreign language is splurged across the board as the teacher drones on. My eyes only stay on her for about five seconds top, before they're darting distractedly around the room. Impulsively, my gaze flickers towards the door every few seconds. It's kind of annoying.

I think Kairi notices as well, because I can feel her gaze on me.

I hear the door open before I turn around and look. Roxas Lockhart walks in, with a glum expression on his face. He lugs his skateboard, dragging his feet towards the teacher at the front to shove the tardy slip into her awaiting hands.

I don't know what it is, or why I get this sense of relief seeing him. An odd sense of relaxation hits me. I don't even realize when my body melts slightly from its stiff posture. Suddenly Kairi's presence isn't overwhelming anymore. I can breathe okay.

The blond turns, and once he spots me, it's as if the whole tardy incident was nonexistent. He smiles at me genuinely… and that sense of relief has quickly switched over to annoyance. I roll my eyes in response, opting to look down at the book I've been neglecting.

.

.

It's lunch, and Roxas has somehow magically convinced me to come sit with him at the lunch table with his newly acquired friends. Actually, convinced isn't the proper word, more like dragged out of the building. I'm not too keen on meeting people that already know rumors of me. It's _irritating_.

What's even more irritating is the fact that Roxas is already so popular, and he hasn't even been here for a whole month yet. To make matters worse, the idiot won't leave me alone. The goal of trying to fade into the background has been utterly crushed because of him. It's like he's holding a huge, neon sign saying _'I'm with Naminé'_.

"These guys are really chill." Roxas says to me, I follow him (grudgingly), to the table. "Hey guys!"

The second I join the table, I can see the stunned and slightly incredulous looks coming from his friends. I recognize the looks, and I even recognize the people.

"You don't mind if Naminé joins us?" Roxas questions, but doesn't really wait for their answer because he's urging me to sit next to him. I roll my eyes, dropping my bag on the table and taking a seat. He grins at me, and proceeds to introduce each of his friends, Pence, Hayner, and Olette.

"Yeah, we've all had English together last year." I state venomously. Olette flinches, Hayner looks down guiltily, and Pence smiles sheepishly. I don't say it's a pleasure…because what the fuck, it isn't a pleasure to meet these assholes. I can see from their conveniently confused expressions that they feel the same way.

"So we all know each other!" Roxas exclaims giddily. Annoyance creeps its way back into my head at his tone. He can't be that thick. He must feel the uncomfortable tension! He must realize that his friends aren't exactly innocent.

I glare at my bag, tempted to pull out my book as a distraction, or as a diversion for my plotting. Roxas turns in his seat to talk to Hayner, and then their whole conversation includes the other two.

As soon as I shuffle through my bag, the blond turns back in his seat, and proceeds to say: "So how is it you know Kairi?"

My hand slips out of my bag like a limp noodle. My stomach flops, as I fight to keep a neutral expression on my face. The eyes of the other three pierce me with rude, unadulterated curiosity. They don't know the story. Not one person in this whole damn school knows exactly what happened, besides the redheaded bitch herself. And she made sure she kept it that way.

I feel a lump in my throat forming. The first sign of the fucking treachery of my tear ducts. I swallow thickly, and pretend to continue shuffling in my bag for something.

"What makes you think I _know_… Kairi?" I inwardly cringe at the pathetic inflection in my voice. Ugh.

I glance at him coldly. I think it's the first time I give him a meaningful dirty look. I think he realizes it too, because he pales instantly. He averts his eyes, playing with the strap of his backpack. My gaze darts around the table at the way the rest of them watch me unashamed.

I can already see the lies and rumors floating around in their heads.

"I just – um," he hesitates awkwardly. "You both seem like you know each other very well…and she just never mentioned you before."

My eyes flicker back to him. I can tell there's something else. The way that he won't look me in the eye, and the way the others are just staring at me expectantly leaves me unsettled. A creepy chill falls over me when the realization comes full circle.

I feel my body flush with a rush of anger.

"Wait, where are you going?" Roxas sputters out when he notices I jump from my seat and throw my bag over my shoulder. I don't answer, opting to get the fuck out of there as fast as I can.

I quickly dart around the tables, ignoring his heavy footsteps behind me.

"Naminé!"

My body shakes angrily, and I round on him the instant he's near.

"What is it you want me to say to you?" I demand.

"I just want the truth." He admits.

"What makes you think you even have the right to know?"

Roxas looks away with a pout. His dark eyebrows scrunch together. My anger softens briefly at the expression. The sincerity of his facial expressions will be the death of me some day.

"I don't want to believe all of the rumors." He mutters.

I stare at him for a long moment.

Where did he come from? Who the fuck does this, _seriously_?

I look away from him, noticing briefly that other students watched this little conversation. Does no one mind their own business these days? My eyes glance around the tables, watching his friends shoot me a look that was a cross between confusion and loathing. I fight the urge to glare back, but right now they're the least of my worries. A few tables away, Kairi Lockhart is watching us warily.

_Look away Naminé. _

"I care, Naminé." Roxas breaks my stare down. "We're friends."

My attention is back on him.

"When are you going to realize that we're _not_ friends?"

Before he can say anything else, I turn on my heel and dart back inside the building. I don't hear the footsteps behind me, thankfully.

.

.

The bell for fifth period rings, sounding muffled in the spacious room of the auditorium. My legs curl up, and I wrap my arms around my knees.

The auditorium door creaks open. For a moment I expect to see Roxas. For a moment I almost complain about his stubbornness.

But when I raise my head and find Kairi walking quickly towards me, the expectant feelings rush out the window.

It's a little different than the last time she interrupted my sulking in the auditorium. I don't detect hesitancy in her movements. Instead, however, I recognize the blatant anger in her steps and the fiery burning in her eyes.

"What did he say to you?" She demands, outraged, before I can even get a word out. Before the tightness forms on my chest, before I can muster enough annoyance and anger against her.

My legs flatten helplessly as she strides closer, until she's a mere two feet away.

I blink rapidly, too stunned to react right away. The redhead is the epitome of frustration. Her hands are balled into tight fists at her sides, and the glower on her face almost seems permanent. Her dark blue eyes dart between mine, still incredibly demanding.

"What stupid stunt did he do to you?" Kairi presses urgently. It's as if my mood is based on the snap of a finger because that's the lapse of time it takes for the anger to come raging back like a storm.

I lean forward in my seat defensively, towering over slightly (which is a rare feat).

"Nothing happened."

"Bull shit." The redhead accuses quickly, stamping her foot. "You've been crying. I can see it all over your face."

"I don't see how this concerns you." I snarl coldly, pointedly looking away from her fierce expression.

Kairi is silent. A moment passes. I'm convinced she has nothing more to say but then –

"I am concerned about _you_." She all but whispers. My head whips in her direction quickly. My mouth is open, ready for another retort, but the way she's looking at me makes me falter. "I don't want you to do anything stupid," her eyes narrow, "because of me."

I almost recoil from her statement. It doesn't hit me at first, not exactly. She was always the master of carefully construing her words. Once the realization sparks, it feels like someone's draining the blood out of my body. A sense of defeat overwhelms me, and it's so strong I'm sure Kairi can feel it from where she's standing.

"I don't think you should be jumping into a relationship so – so quickly because…" Her voice quivers. It's incredulous, hearing her try to come up with a reason. Suddenly, I'm pissed off.

"Because what?" I demand angrily.

Kairi's temper flares again as she stomps even closer.

"Because you're unstable." She shouts.

I don't know exactly what makes me angrier, the fact that she thinks I'm some kind of relationship with that idiot, Roxas, or the fact that she basically just called me crazy.

"No, I didn't mean that," she cuts in quickly, bringing a hand to cover her face. "I just don't think it's a great idea for you, in particular. You have more important things to worry about."

"Like talking to you?" I spat sarcastically.

The heavy sound of Kairi's bag crashing on the floor makes me jump in my seat, alarmed.

"That's it!" She snaps. "That's it, Naminé," Kairi murmurs as she takes an aggressive step closer to me. Her ponytail whips behind her with each furious step. I feel myself stiffen apprehensively in my seat. "I'm tired of you pushing me away. I'm just here to tutor you. I'm here for you well being."

"Don't lie." I whisper.

"You act like I'm out to get you." She disregards my statement.

"It wouldn't be the first time," I cut in harshly, that I see her cringe away for a split second. But, in the next, she's shaking her head, and returning to her spot. The gap between us shrinks; it's so miniscule that my knees are nearly brushing her thighs. The apprehension multiplies tenfold.

"Alright, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything that I've ever done to you." The redhead cries out harshly. Her minty breath, mixed with that painfully familiar strawberry lip gloss wafts through my nose. That disgusting sense of longing catches me off guard for a moment, and I resist the urge to press my face closer to the scent. It's – well – intoxicating. My mind turns fuzzy, as my thoughts sway drunkenly down memory lane. Memories of her lips, the way that infuriating lip gloss tasted on my tongue. Oh god, tongues.

My mouth dries at the thought of _hers_. The soft, wet, reassuring feel of it. It's like I'm in some kind of strawberry paradise.

"But that still doesn't excuse you from ignoring all of your obligations!" Kairi's voice snaps me out of my day dream. Ugh, I mean day nightmare. That bitch.

My expression turns sour. At least I hope it looks sour, and I hope she didn't catch that ridiculous dazed look I know was on my face a few seconds ago.

"You're failing math," she starts heatedly. "_Math_! And that's just one course. I don't even know how you're doing in other classes. Come on, it's math. You've never failed math. I was always there to help you."

Admittedly, I'm a little confused as to how we even got to this subject. I doubt this is what she really wants to talk about.

"Yeah, well, sure didn't seem like you were there for me at all, especially when you humiliated me." I spat out nastily. The cheerleader flinches, taking a step back – her thighs losing contact with my knees completely. That fake guilt passes through her expression. It stings, and pisses me off at the same time. The urge to slap her has never been this strong. It burns through me like a cast iron.

Her glossed lips (here we go with the fucking lips again) tremble, her eyebrows knit together in distress. Her face morphs into a hauntingly attractive pout. It makes me livid the way my body readily reacts to her in general. I feel the warmth in my cheeks and that topsy-turvy, light somersault feeling in my stomach.

I avert my eyes pointedly.

"Naminé," she says softly, gently, in that achingly intimate way. That's what it is, this whole situation has become entirely _too_ intimate for me to handle. "Have you even started your college apps?"

I don't respond. She sighs, and my stomach flops.

"Naminé, let me help you." She pleads. It sound so genuine, and so sincere, I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to come back with a harsh remark or a glare. I don't even know how to ignore her. My eyes meet hers momentarily. And then it's just like the first time we met. The large, empty auditorium dissolves around her. An uncanny focus lingers on the redhead, as if I was watching her through an HD camera. It's a clear picture. I feel my chest loosen, the anger fade, the tension ebb away.

Her blue eyes burn into mine in a watery inferno.

"I want to help," her voice lowers, as she moves closer. Suddenly I'm not even sure it's college applications she's talking about anymore. Her thighs are brushing against my knees again, but I vaguely notice it, because I now feel her fingers against my hand. The soft pads stroking, and turning over on my skin.

I don't move.

"Please." She's begs softly.

"You can't help me." I mumble, swallowing thickly. Her eyes dart between mine in a flurry of tears. "Not anymore, _Pete_."

I hear her sigh shakily. Her fingers interlace with mine, and I don't push her away. It's like my whole body just shut down at her touch.

"Wend-"

"Naminé, there you are!" The big booming, familiar voice fills up the quiet auditorium, drowning out the redhead's voice. Roxas Lockhart races down the hallway

Kairi's hand shoots away from mine, and she darts away from me as if she's been electrocuted.

Roxas doesn't notice Kairi, or if he does, he doesn't comment on it. Instead he's blubbering like an idiot, and apologizing profusely, promising to make it up to me yada yada. I'm only half paying attention to his rambling.

My eyes follow the redhead, as she picks up her bag and quietly walks the way the both of them entered. She tilts her head sideways to glance at me. Her eyes dart between Roxas and I. There's something in her expression that makes my stomach plummet. It makes me sick, and I don't know why.

"Please, please forgive me, I-I didn't mean to be so pushy and-"

"It's okay," I turn away from the redhead, and look at Roxas. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I was acting like a bitch. _I'm_ sorry."

"No, you-"

"Roxas, just drop it." I'm getting annoyed now. "Friends fight all the time and they always make up."

I feel like face palming once I see his expression light up like a Christmas tree at the word _friends_.

Friends. Somehow I know this is going to bite me in the ass later on.

As if to prove my point, I hear the auditorium door loudly slams shut. And I'm left with an overly guilty blond thinking to myself: _what the fuck just happened?_

.

.

**So...the plot thickens into warm chocolately syrup. All I need is the ice cream :3**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved - like _a lot_.  
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	9. Chapter 8

**Yikes! I know I've really lagged it with uploading the next chapter. This chapter is pretty short too. Double yikes! Rest assured, I did not forget about this story. It just might get a little harder to update since midterms are quickly approaching. Triple yikes! I'll try to get the next chapter in this upcoming week. Emphasis on the try. Since I suck, don't believe me :l **

**Apologies for any grammatical and/or spelling errors. Again, I suck. **

**Enjoy the NamiKai-ness!**

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**Chapter 8**

_Junior Year_

_._

I didn't know how to approach the situation at first. How does one even approach a situation like this? What was the proper way to go about it? How do you deal with the fact that someone kissed you? Rephrase; how do you deal with a girl kissing you?

And really, the most important question: did I really enjoy it?

The answer was evident on my face when I felt my cheeks burn.

I sighed, twirling the pencil in my hand, eyes furtively darting towards the redhead sitting next to me. Her eyes caught my stare. She blushed, before turning away furiously, as she continued to ignore my existence.

It was the same reaction for the past week. Every time I tried to initiate some semblance of a conversation, she would turn her seat completely away from me. Thus leaving me in an utter sense of depression.

I sighed again, leaning my face against my hand dejectedly. My head was telling me to get the hell out of here, leave her alone, stay far away as possible. Another part of me, however, was still the irritating nag that wanted to befriend her.

I frowned, staring down at my lab worksheet. Oh right, forgot to mention that today in Chemistry, the teacher expected us to do a lab, and by extension communicating with our partner. Somehow I knew I was going to regret this.

I fidgeted with the beakers laid out across our desk, watching Kairi out of the corner of my eye. She was still turned away.

"Um…we should start." I mumbled awkwardly.

"Don't tell me what to do." She snapped, snatching the beaker out of my hand. I flinched, shrinking into my seat.

_Great. The first thing she says to me in a week and it's to scold me._

I pouted from my corner of the desk, my eyes following her movement as she snapped the goggles over her face. My gaze fell to the lab coat covering her uniform and by extension her legs (not that I generally stared in that direction). I blinked, before snapping my own goggles over my face.

I remained silent as I watched her measure out the water in the beaker.

I chewed my lip, eyes glued to her concentrated stare. Or _supposed_ concentrated stare. I noticed the way her eyes would occasionally flicker in my direction nervously. It wasn't until –

"Stop staring at me." She hissed, setting the beaker down roughly and spinning in her seat to face me. Her eyes narrowed defensively.

I averted my eyes like an obedient puppy. But then –

"Are we really not going to talk about it?" I asked quietly.

Her cheeks flamed in color offensively.

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about." She snarled furiously. I felt my own cheeks flame in humiliation.

"The kiss-"

Kairi proceeded to spill the solution all over the desk, causing the beaker to roll off the desk and shatter into pieces on the floor. The Chem teacher was among us faster than a hawk spotting prey.

"Everyone stay clear of this area, go on girls. This is a very deadly substance we're dealing with, here." He warned seriously, mustache bristling with conviction.

"It's salt water." Kairi said flatly, shaking her head. She removed her lab coat and goggles. A large blotch of salt water stained her chest.

"Oh, Kairi that's unfortunate." The teacher said, once he noticed the stain. His eyes lingered in that area for longer than I would've liked. "Why don't you go down to the lost and found for a spare change of clothes?"

"I'll go with you." I volunteered automatically. If it were possible, Kairi's disgruntled face fell into even more disgruntlement.

"I can navigate my own way to the damn lost and found thank you very much." She retorted heatedly, continuing to give me the stink eye.

"No, no go with her Naminé." He urged me. "Don't forget to take the lab pass."

_._

We both walked in silence, Kairi a few steps ahead of me, like she didn't want to be seen with me. As if anyone would've even seen us, the hallways were completely empty.

We were alone in a deserted hallway, walking in silence to the lost and found. If this wasn't a good opportunity to clear all of this unresolved tension, I didn't know what was. I sucked in a deep breath, and jogged to keep up with her.

She shot me a loathsome stare, when I accidently bumped into her.

Immediately my nerves grappled me, and I fell behind again like the coward I was.

_No. No. You have to say something. Say something Naminé. Say something now!_

"It's okay you know," I stated loud enough for her to hear me. She came to a slow stop, before whipping around. Her eyes darted in my direction warily. My lips tilted into a timid smile, trying not to frighten her away.

Her arms crossed over her chest, and she eyed me in silent fury, probing me to continue. I swallowed thickly, sidestepping and leaning against the nearest locker carefully. I hoped that this made me look casual, but really I was afraid my knees would give out if I continued standing there before her.

"I won't tell anyone." I finally added, as she moved closer to me.

Kairi's narrowed eyes softened. Her defensive posture fell away slightly.

"You won't tell anyone?" She whispered.

"No." I stated firmly. She blinked, scrutinizing me. I felt my face heat up exponentially. Her eyebrows relaxed until the crease between them was nonexistent. Her stiff posture loosened up. It almost looked as if a spell of relief washed over her.

"Whenever you're ready," I continued. "I'm sure the closet door is very much unlocked."

Her eyes narrowed again, this time in confusion.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Kairi demanded suddenly. Her eyes flew across my face accusingly, and then they widened with realization. Immediately her face turned a plum purple. Her body stiffened, and she trembled furiously. "You – you think _I'm_ gay?" She rounded on me angrily, and I melted into the locker behind me.

"Kairi, it's perfectly natural to be insecure about your sexuality-"

"-As if you would know!" She cut in venomously. "And I'm not insecure. I'm _not_ gay!"

My lips tugged into a frown at her almost tantrum.

"I mean denial really isn't the best-"

"I'm not in denial!" She shrieked, curling her fists at her sides. Her eyes flashed dangerously at me, as if she wanted to rip my throat out. Her blue eyes were blown out black. It was the same predatory look. A look that was familiar. "_You're_ the gay one here! Following me around like a freaky lesbo stalker, trying to join the cheerleading squad, and – and trying to attack me in the locker room!"

I straightened instantly at the mention of the locker room. My face burned with the memory of her lips. The embarrassment showed even brighter than a flashlight.

"You're the one that kissed me!" I nearly screamed.

"Shut up!" Kairi spoke over my outburst, eyes darting around the area in panic. "Shut up about that."

"Just admit that you-"

My voice drowned out the moment I felt her push me deeper against the locker. The combination dug into my back. Feelings of déjà vu rushed at me. All that was really left was her lips –

"Admit that I initiated it?" Kairi's voice was low and cold. "And then what? What'll happen after that? Huh, Naminé? What are you going to do about it?"

"If you would just stop denying what you want, you'd realize that I actually liked it." I blurted out without thinking. My hand shot towards my mouth, clamping tightly over my lips.

Her blue eyes widened, mirroring my own expression. Her eyebrows shot up so high that her cherry fringe covered them.

Her hand slowly slid from above me, resting carefully on the wall near my face. From a side view (as if I even cared about a side view with this girl in my face), I could see her hand tremble slightly against the wall. I felt my hand slide away from my mouth slowly.

"You liked it?" She barely whispered. Her breath beat against my lips in little heated wisps. My heart pounded loudly in my chest that it was the only thing reverberating through my ears. I felt my pulse jump rapidly, threatening to render my body into a shaky mess.

Oh, well, too late, I thought as I felt myself shiver involuntarily when her fingers grazed my hand.

The redhead's gaze softened. Her frown upturned into a serious line. My eyes lingered longer than I would've wanted them to when I saw her bottom lip disappear beneath her teeth. I glanced back up and noticed that she got ridiculously closer to me. So close I could count the light freckles sprinkled across her golden face again.

The hand on the wall crept down, until she was touching my hair. I swallowed thickly, sinking heavily into the wall behind me.

"Naminé, answer." She muttered imploringly. I melted. I died. I spontaneously combusted.

"You're pretty." I uttered out stupidly.

Kairi blinked, reminding me of a cat. Her head tilted to the side, puzzled. Then, as if some god from above granted me my last wish, her lips lifted into a small shy smile.

My face flushed an embarrassing crimson color. My stomach was doing pirouettes and somersaults. My head felt light, as if it could float away to the clouds if it weren't attached to my body.

And then the redhead straightened up and backed away suddenly. Her eyes narrowed coldly as she glared at me. Her smile fell away into a horrible frown of contempt.

"I told you to stay away from me, freak."

It felt like everything was moving in super speed motion. She just flipped the switch. Off and on again. Anger filtered through my fragile state of mind. I felt it beforehand, the tell tale signs of the traitor tears, so it was much easier to conceal them with a glare. My mouth twisted into a dissatisfied frown, eyes narrowed. Her expression brightened with shock at my sudden hostility.

I straightened out, mirroring her previous stance.

"Fine," I bit back. The abrupt tone of my voice startled her, because she took uneasy steps away from me. "Fine Kairi. From now on, I'll leave you alone so you can rot with the rest of your pathetic _pressed lemon_ friends." I blurted out harshly.

The redhead's jaw dropped open, eyes darting between my own angry ones. She scrutinized me with unmistakable surprise. Then for a split second, her bottom lip trembled, as something flashed between her blue eyes. I couldn't put an emotion on it because, it quickly disappeared, however, it still gave me a stomach sinking feeling. Something told me that I'd never want to see that look again.

Her lips closed, and formed a tight frown. She stiffened back into her rigid posture, placing her hands on their rightful place on her hips. She sneered prettily.

"Good, _freak_." She scoffed, giving me one last once over, before sharply turning around and walking away from me.

I watched until she was out of sight, taking in one good last once over as well.

.

.

Ever since that incident, Kairi avoided me like the plague. She was always the last to arrive to our shared classes, and the first to leave. During break, she was nowhere to be found. Even Sora, who besides me, always followed her around, was having trouble spotting the head cheerleader.

He confided in me during P.E.

"It's like she disappeared or something." He complained, dribbling the orange basketball before bouncing it my way.

I didn't respond, choosing to focus on the ball rather than the brunet's constipated thinking face. A surge of guilt suffused through my body. It was ridiculous. Why in the world was I guilty? There was no need.

Kairi Lockhart was the one that pounced on me. She was the culprit for the kiss.

_Kiss_.

My lips tingled at the memory. A warm, buttery feeling slithered down my chest, pooling at the bottom of my belly. It was a pleasant feeling. A welcoming wonderful, exhilarating feeling. It made me warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

"I wonder if I did something stupid." Sora's voice broke me away from my thoughts. His dark brows scrunched together before releasing tension. "Nah."

He scoffed, reaching towards me and snatching the ball from my hands. I was silent, watching him as he tried to shoot a basket.

"But then I did kind of piss her off yesterday by trying to get her to eat a burger…" His frown deepened.

"I'm sure she's not upset over that." I offered half heartedly.

"Nami, you haven't seen her when she's mega pissed. It's kind of scary." The brunet exclaimed. "And I do kind of make her pissed a lot."

_Oh, you think _you_ piss her off?_

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The basket ball hit the backboard and bounced back in our direction. Sora snatched the ball, dribbling it furiously.

"Sometimes I wish she'd just chill. She's so uptight all the time." The boy vented, catching the ball mid dribble. "She's also been a total bitch this week."

"Don't call her that," I burst out suddenly. My sympathetic gaze turned sour in an instant. An irrational surge of anger hit me square in the chest. His dopey tanned face seemed annoying. The cute little way his eyebrows scrunched together seemed obnoxious. His stupid hair just looked…_stupid_.

Sora looked at me incredulously, as if I insulted him. My teeth ground together in frustration. A wave of determination and – could it be? – defensiveness rose within me like a hurricane. His blue eyes squinted at me, in that constipated way, before widening. Then he had the freaking decency to form a smirk on his face.

"Well, it is true." He insisted, holding the basketball to his waist. That ridiculous triumphant grin still plastered across his cocky face. "You know, I'd think you'd be the one calling her a bitch since she's the one that's a bitch to you."

I glowered at his smug expression. The urge to slap him across the face surprised me. Sometimes I forgot how much of an oafish pig Sora Highwind could be.

"You know, for someone who claims they like Kairi, you have a pretty horrible way of showing it." I snarled, turning on my heel and stalking away.

.

.

It was not a good week, not a good week at all. It reminded me of that first horrible week of school. The week that really had no purpose. No goal of befriending Kairi. No conversations in P.E. I was lonely. And what was worse was that I was purposely ignoring the redhead.

That had to be the most draining exercise I'd ever done in my life. Especially since after all the avoidance, Kairi was doing anything and everything to try to get my attention now. From calling me names in the hallway, to following me around to class (in secret from the rest of her friends of course), to lingering by the gym for P.E. with Sora, to sitting next to me in all the other classes I shared with her. It took every bit of will power to pretend she was nowhere in my radar. That she was just a speck of existence in my life. The unfairness of it all was just killing me. I wanted to scream out.

Not even the books in front of me could derail me from her heavy stares.

That's why, on this particular occasion, it felt like a sense of relief not seeing the redhead trying to subtly tail me. Either I had lost her, or she finally gave up.

I stuffed my book into my bag, and darted through the bathroom door before I was caught.

"Fine, fine whatever, just make sure Roxas doesn't go through my stuff."

_Speak of the devil!_

Kairi's voice filtered through the bathroom. I nearly smacked myself, and backtracked through the exit but the redhead caught me, freezing me on the spot. Her eyes rendered me statue still. The phone was still pressed against her cheek, and she was still talking to the other person, but her expression clearly told me to stay put.

_Just go Naminé, lose her as fast as you can!_

"Okay, okay," she answered evenly. "Bye."

She put her phone into her pocket, and stared me down. Her lips were tugged down into an unmoved frown.

"Stop it." She said with conviction.

I made a face, and she closed the gap between us, until there we were only a few feet apart.

"I want you to stop what you're doing." Kairi commanded urgently. I scoffed, making a move around her but her arm shot out blocking my way completely. My gaze flickered to her face with as much contempt as I could muster. She was unrelenting.

"Stop it!" She said.

"Stop what?" I finally questioned, pushing past her. I didn't make it more than two steps before I felt her hand grasp my arm, reeling me back in front of her.

"Stop ignoring me, Naminé!" She hissed, as she clung to my arm heatedly.

There it was again – the warm feeling associated with her voice whenever she said my name. I pushed the feeling away before I would start to smile.

I trained my lips into a disinterested frown. Kairi's nails dug into my sweater. I silently thanked my decision of wearing a thick coat.

"Whatever shitty game you think you're playing at," she growled, inching closer to me. Perhaps I would have taken her seriously, or rather taken it as a death threat if I didn't feel that stomach churning thrill from her. "It's not working. You're stupid for thinking otherwise."

The thrill faded away at the insult. I suddenly remembered that I was angry with her.

"It's you who's playing the games." I retorted.

Kairi's glossed lips curled maliciously, as she took a step closer to me. She was too close again. You know, I was starting to think this was becoming a habit. At this rate, I was almost sure I'd find out how many freckles she had on her face.

"You're the one ignoring me." The redhead snapped.

I stared at the girl incredulously.

"I don't understand you. First you want me to leave you alone and now you're dying for my attention?" I demanded. "What is it that you want from me, Kairi?"

She stared at me intensely.

"I want – I…" She stumbled over her words, flushing a ridiculous shade of magenta.

"Clearly, you don't even know what you want. Or you do, but you just won't admit it." I muttered.

"I – I know what I want." She snarled heatedly, glaring at me for good measure. "I want you to stay away from me. I want you to just go back from wherever the hell you came from. Stay out of my fucking head. I want you to just…just don't ignore me."

I didn't even realize she was on the verge of tears until I heard her voice breaking at the end of her speech. My chest tightened, clenching and unclenching at the sight of the redhead struggling with herself. Automatically, I felt my hand reach for the one clutching at my sweater sleeve shakily. Her fingers wrapped around mine tightly.

Her eyes were puffy and red, as she stared at me with a wounded expression. And crap. The only thing running through my head was how could someone so moody, and mean, and horrible, be this cute?

I was gone, and it was stupid, considering all the bipolar crap I had to deal with from her. I was already so gone the moment she forced _Wuthering Heights_ back into my hands in the auditorium.

I didn't hesitate when I noticed she was moving closer and I pressed my lips to hers. The same giddy, weightless, heart pounding feeling pulsated throughout my body. Waves of flaming hot electricity hummed through my veins, when if I felt her mouth respond.

Thoughts of insecurity and the fact that I didn't know how to kiss faded into a little box in the back of my mind. The only things that really fluttered throughout the blank empty canvas was the warmth and feel of her tender kiss, the saltiness of it, and the residue of her strawberry lip gloss.

_Oh gosh, I'm kissing Kairi Lockhart. I'm kissing Kairi Lockhart in a bathroom._

.

.

**That seems like something to be proud of...minus the bathroom part. Anyway, expect the NamiKai-ness to pick up the next couple of chapters...actually also expect the Namixas to pick up as well (nearly forgot about them lawwl). **

**Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but it is kind of important. Next chapter will be longer...hopefully!**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews equal love. Lots and lots of love!**


	10. Chapter 9

**I am alive. **

**Now that that's out of the way, I'm really sorry for not updating sooner. I always do this. So don't ever listen to me when I say _"Oh, I'm probably going to update later this week. blah blah me is stupid". _I'm probably lying, or telling the truth but not realizing what the crap I'm saying. **

**Um, this chapter is longer than my normal, standard chapter length so I guess I should apologize for that...or not? It's not that long, but it's longer. And I don't know what else to say lol. **

**Besides the usual: apologies for any spelling and/or grammatical errors. No beta. Half asleep. I suck.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

_Senior Year_

_._

_._

_"What's in a name? That which we call a rose  
>By any other name would smell as sweet." <em>

My eyes dart over the book I'm reading, scanning the library until they fall on the blond skater. He idly browses through the row of books in front of him, as if he's actually interested in reading them. I nearly snort into the beloved tale of Romeo and Juliet. Can you sense the sarcasm?

It's been a week. A week of having Kairi fucking Lockhart as a tutor in that dreadful hell hole of a class. A week of constant unwanted feelings. And a week of relief that came in the form of Roxas fucking Lockhart.

It truly is an inexplicable feeling to describe Roxas as my savior. It seems cliché, and makes me seem like a fucking girl. It also seems too good to be true.

Roxas Lockhart.

That's the only chink in his armor. There has to be something wrong with him. There has to be some inevitable flaw in his mannerism, his looks, _anything_!

Finally noticing my stare, Roxas looks over at me from the bookshelf. His bright blue eyes twinkle as he beams at me. I almost expect a wagging tail to poke out of his pants. It's ridiculous. There has to be something. Well besides being annoying. I don't really count that one; I'm an impatient person. I digress. The point is no one can be this cheerful and so happy all of the time, or at least no one can be like that without wanting something.

What could Roxas _Lockhart_ possibly want from me?

That last name. Perhaps he sees it as an imperfection as well. Who's to say that they even like each other?

The blond boy tilts his head to the side, regarding me with a hint of confusion.

I shake my head, and look away with a flushed face. Because it's stupid to be caught staring, especially staring at someone as idiotic as that…_idiot_.

Regardless of the indecision concerning my trust of the blond boy, I can't really deny the feeling. The reassured feeling that seems to fall over me every time he's around. The relief would have been ultimate. It would have been complete and almost perfect, had it not been for the name. It makes me feel like he's constantly plotting and that he's going to screw me over the same way his potential relative did.

How exactly can I trust a savior when the name brings such painful feelings?

I stare down at my book, sifting through the rest of Juliet's monologue, trying to pretend to ignore the footsteps I hear coming towards me.

"Hey," Roxas greets, leaning against the bookshelf smoothly. My eyes lift up to meet his. They're still twinkling. It's unnerving.

"Hello." I offer. Friendly enough. He grins happily at the returned greeting. I frown, and glance back down at the book.

"So what's up with the staring?" He asks. Well someone certainly gets to the point. I can feel the embarrassment before it's apparent on my face. My eyes dart back to his face in a frenzy.

"What?" I sputter out, nearly dropping my book. His grin thins into a playful smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest and regards me fully.

"You've been staring at me like you were making some kind of science observation for the past half hour."

I gape at him, feeling a ridiculous wave of déjà vu at his words. His smirk turns impish, and there's a light blush spread across his cheeks.

"I wasn't." I deny, glaring down at my book. I reread the same line over again, suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate under his gaze.

"It's okay, you know," he mutters softly. "I don't mind."

"I _wasn't_ looking." I say with finality, pushing myself away from the bookshelf. The incessant pounding of his feet against the carpet irritates me as I make my way to the other side of the library. From the front desk, the librarian is watching us, eyes peering over her crescent glasses. She clears her throat, and quickly tries to look busy. I roll my eyes and try to pick up my pace. I hear his footsteps match my pace. Soon enough I give up, trying to outwalk him, sharply turning around to face him.

"Don't you have homework or something to do?" I question petulantly.

"I do have homework," he admits truthfully, scratching the back of his blond head. "Doesn't mean I'm going to do it. I thought we could use this time to, you know, get to know each other?"

I give him a flat look.

"So, um, since we're like friends and all, I think we should exchange numbers..." He stammers out. Cue in another flat look. "…Or not."

I blink, silently watching him as I lean against the nearest bookshelf. His smile is innocently embarrassed, almost to the point where I feel embarrassed for him. Despite this, there is that underlying sincerity in his expression. Something familiar, something I used to associate with myself before the whole Kairi debacle happened. It captivates me.

Maybe it's because deep down I know I need someone – a friend. Or maybe I pray that I can at least get half of the girl I used to be through him.

_Where did you come from?_

The blush slowly fades away and he holds my gaze unabashedly.

"Why are you trying so hard?" I ask finally. "You could've left a long time ago."

"I'm not the type of person who walks out on those who need them." He responds firmly, giving me a knowing look. A shiver of fear creeps through me at his words, the way he looks at me. As if he knows something I don't. Or worse, knows about Kairi.

My eyes narrow defensively.

"I don't _need_ you."

"I didn't mean it like that," he mumbles offhandedly. He hesitates, pursing his lips, thinking for the right words. All that goes through my mind in that instant is how glad I am he doesn't have that stupid constipated face Sora usually has when he starts thinking. It doesn't take long for him to stare back at me with the determination back in his eyes. "It's just when I look at you, I get like this urge to help you, you know?"

I open my mouth to snarl out a snarky remark, but he holds up his hand for me to stop.

"Not that you need my help or anything. You're pretty independent and stuff." He states in a rush, flushing a little. "It's just that you seem…_sad_. And I get sad, kind of, and it makes me want to make you happy."

I want my first reaction to be annoyance. I want to be so irrationally irritated with the idiotic statement he just fed me, but it seems impossible. Not when he's staring at me vulnerably with the pout marring his face, making him look like little boy. It's the honesty that kills me the most. How can someone say something and look that sincere?

A dull warmth sprouts in the pit of my stomach, as I reach into my bag, pull out my phone and hand it to him. He stares at it, puzzled.

"Well, put your number in it then." I snap. He fumbles with the phone, punching in his number. I can't help the very small smile from forming on my face. His lips pull into a very large grin.

_What are you doing, Naminé? _

Being spontaneous, I shoot back.

"So what's the deal with you and Kairi?" Roxas asks suddenly, handing my phone back. I can feel my face fall before I even realize it. Again, with that question. That question he's been probing around all week now. A question that was once a touchy subject, now is annoying as hell. I give him look that roughly translates to as such. He flinches slightly, but other than that his expression remains unrelenting. It's gotten harder to avoid the subject, to look away from his sincere eyes, to deny his question. His eyes slide away uncomfortably.

"You have her listed under your contacts," he finally admits, tilting his head to look at me in a sideways glance.

"I didn't say you can look through my phone." I say in a cold voice. He visibly shivers.

"I know, I'm sorry. It was just there and…" He trails off lamely, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Naminé, I keep hearing rumors, and from what I saw in the auditorium…"

Again, another statement I've heard consistently throughout this week.

So _fucking_ what? I want to say. Believe what you want, it doesn't make any of it true. My lips remain closed.

His blue eyes narrow, scrutinizing every inch of my expression. Nervously, I finally avert my eyes, focusing on the books meticulously placed on the shelf before me. With a shaky breath, I squeeze my book back into the shelf as a distraction.

_Just drop it, Roxas. Please._

"Why do you keep doing this?" I demand, flipping the irrational anger switch suddenly. I turn and glare at him. He takes a hesitant step back, realizing that I'm at my boiling point. It's going to be one of those days. One of those bitch days. I think he realizes it too because he bows his head regretfully. But then –

"I want to hear it from you." He responds gently.

"What have you _heard_?" I question, my tone lowering considerably. I suppose he takes that as an invitation, because he's looking at me again – _eagerly_.

"That you're gay and you used to stalk Kairi all the time, until she put a restraining order on you." He states at a super speed motion. His face flushes when I look away uncomfortably. "So you _are_ gay then?"

Despite the awkwardness, a twinge of annoyance billows in my chest. Annoyance with the stupid girls that even started that rumor. Annoyance that Roxas even asked me. What business does he have knowing about my life?

_Oh, well, I guess that's what friends do. _

_Friends. _

The word flows through my mind distastefully. Maybe I was right in having my doubts about Roxas _Lockhart_.

"I'm not gay." I mutter, suddenly not in the mood to talk. His blue eyes focus on me for a minute, before he sighs out loud. He sounds relieved. "Those rumors aren't true."

My gaze turns sour at his brightened expression. I turn back to the bookshelf, pretending to search for a title. As soon as they land on fucking Peter Pan, I nearly lose it. I grit my teeth and glare at the spine of the book.

"You really have no idea how glad I am to hear that." He says with that (annoying as hell) smile that eats up his whole face.

"Does that make me seem more normal?" I sneer, whipping around to shift my glare on him. Roxas's smile falls. His expression softens, and it bothers me how guilty I suddenly start to feel.

"No," he whispers. The atmosphere has dropped into a pool of seriousness. "It makes you a possibility."

The humor vanishes from his face completely. His blue eyes flicker like a candle – something in the depth freaks me out. Uneasiness sweeps over me. I take a step back, bumping into the bookshelf behind me. Roxas remains in the same spot, staring at me with that same almost thoughtful, completely indescribably expression. The feeling of the shelves surrounding us makes me feel claustrophobic. I want him as far as fucking possible away from me.

_Get away!_

_No change the subject, change the subject! Change it! Change it!_

"How is it that _you_ know Kairi?" I blurt out His eyes widen in what I believe is shock. He coughs uncomfortably, as if to snap out of the fucking freaky spell he was under. A light flush spreads across his normally white cheeks. His expression quickly turns sheepish as he looks away.

"Uhh, it's a little hard to explain." He mumbles, frowning. The seriousness fades away as quickly as it comes. In the place of panic comes a strong sense of curiosity burning through me. I cross my arms over my chest and shoot him an unimpressed stare. His frown deepens.

Roxas scratches the back of his head nervously. "Well, um, Kairi and I are cousins."

My face twists in confusion.

How the fuck is that hard to explain?

"Uh, yeah, I don't know. It's not really in my place to explain I guess." He shuts off completely, and by god does that make the curiosity burn even more. His eyes remain stubbornly averted from my expectant gaze. After a minute of this I let out a sigh of annoyance and finality, much to his obvious relief.

I continue my mission of browsing through the bookshelf, ignoring him as he swallows thickly, disregarding the way he stumbles over his words, pretending I don't notice the discomfort that suddenly seems to envelope him.

"Um, I know this seems kind of soon," he starts awkwardly. I glance at him and notice his pale cheeks redden by the second. "I hardly know you and you hardly know me, but I think that just makes it an even better opportunity. I really like what we're doing now – this friendship stuff. I don't wanna mess that up or anything."

He coughs uncomfortably, rubbing his crimson cheek. He laughs nervously as if to ease the tension, but I can feel it even thicker than ever. I carefully cross my arm over the other as a precaution. He stammers under his breath that sounds an awful lot like scolding before –

"Will you go on a date with me?"

.

.

_Date_. A date? Really?

I scowl, gripping the book in my hands tightly. My fingernails scrape against the paperback cover before

I realize what I'm doing. I sigh in frustration, stuffing the book back inside my bag.

A date.

What do I look like? A lovesick desperado? Do I have a fucking huge neon sign saying _Date Me_ plastered on my forehead? What kind of moron would want – I mean who does he think he is? Asking me on a date?

I thought I clearly had the '_don't fuck with me'_ vibe going on. Is he _that_ stupid?

I huff, biting my lip and hug my bag against my chest. The boiling hot anger that fills me doesn't stop the cold weather I'm suddenly starting to feel.

Payment for not bringing a fucking jacket. My scowl deepens, as I dig into my bag for my phone. Another ten minutes and my brother will be here – that is if he's not driving his monster at cruise speed.

My eyes scan the surrounding area, silently pleased that no one is in sight. Probably because school ended an hour ago and I'm the lame loser sulking over what an idiot said in the hours prior to dismissal.

I shiver quietly, watching the empty street. My eyes zero in on the flyers for the next football game. It's supposed to be something big. Whatever. I was never really into football , just the cheer –

I stop at that thought, shaking my head in annoyance. Point is: I'm not even planning on going to that stupid game. No, no, no, no way in h –

"Hi." Sora Highwind pops out of nowhere, interrupting my thoughts. He waves a hand, the other holding the strap of his gym bag securely. He grins, plopping down next to me. I feel like I've just stepped into a Twilight Zone episode, you know, the ones that ends up with the guy getting murdered. Sora can be the guy.

His hair is wet, probably from after practice showers. He flattens his hair with his comb, which just kind of springs back up. Sora the same as ever, same bad haircut and all. I don't even give him a glance. "Most people say _hi_ or _hello_ back."

"What do you want?" I snap.

"Ouch, man."

I shoot him a loathsome look, and he scoots away a reasonable distance. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Reasonable would be on the other side of the fucking building.

"I just wanna talk." He cracks his knuckles anxiously. The sound of each crack digging into my skull. I spin in my seat automatically.

"Just tell me what you want and then leave, okay Sora?"

His face falls, and he turns away at my hostility. I almost feel bad….hahahahaha, no that doesn't even sound honest in my head. His feet shift against the cement, fingers twiddling with each other, before he turns back to me. His blue eyes are blank with honesty albeit _stupid_ honesty. They flicker from my face down to my body. Yep, should've known, once a creeper always a –

"You look cold." He blurts out. Before I can get so much as a word out he's unzipping his hoodie and shoving it into my arms. "Take my sweater."

_Really bitch?_

"I'm not cold." I lie, pushing the jacket back into his arms. He shrugs his shoulders in acceptance and takes it back. It doesn't annoy me how ungentlemanlike he is, instead I'm slightly relieved.

"I don't believe any of those rumors." Sora randomly says after a few seconds. He breathes out a light chuckle. "Neither does Kairi."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"Did she set this up?" I drawl out. Sora blinks innocently. It reminds me of the time I once found Sora Highwind half charming.

"No. She doesn't know I wanted to talk to you, so don't tell her." He warns. God, what an idiot. As if I even talk to her.

He frowns, furrowing his chocolate eyebrows.

"It's just totally different now." He says sadly. "I guess I miss you and our talks."

Correction: my patience with his long idiotic rants.

"And Kairi's moody all of the time again, and all of her friends are totally mean to me. Nobody gets me. It just sucks, you know? You were always so nice, and like, our friendship was the best right?"

"Sora," I pause, searching for the right words. "We were never really friends."

He looks crestfallen at my words, and I don't know why I still get guilty. Knowing what a pervert, pig, jerk Sora Highwind is, the fact that I can even still feel guilty after everything irritates the fuck out of me.

"And even if we were, I know for a fact you will always choose your popularity over our friendship." I mutter out tiredly.

_Just go away. I don't want to talk to you anymore. Leave the freak alone._

"But, like, maybe if you did something like join the cheerleading squad again-"

"_No_."

He doesn't speak at first, probably just soaking in my vehement response.

"It's our fault, isn't it? You're like fucked up now." He says. I shoot him an offended look. He doesn't seem bothered by it. That's Sora '_the tactless asshole'_ Highwind for you. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I ask flatly.

"Not stopping the rumors when I could have."

He looks sincere enough which strikes me as odd. An uneasy chill creeps through my veins. I'm just waiting for the redheaded cheerleader to pop out of the bushes and yell _syke_.

My mouth opens to respond, but my voice is drowned out by the familiar rumbling engine and screech of tires. Cloud pulls up by the curb near us. I rise from my seat, putting the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

"My ride's here." I state, staring back at the brunet. Sora peers around me, eyes focusing on Cloud. Curiosity flickers through his dim expression.

"That's your brother right?"

I nod, before making a move towards the car. Sora, however, stops me pulling me back with a hand that has suddenly appeared on my shoulder. I whirl around angrily, insult on the tip of my tongue but the apprehensive look in his eyes makes me hesitate.

"Do you think you can give me a ride home?"

.

.

"Weeee-eeeeeh are never ever, ever getting back together!" Sora sings loudly in the back seat. "Not that I know the lyrics or anything 'cause that's like stupid. I don't listen to this shit." He assures Cloud and I firmly, reaching between the console to switch the station.

I sink into the passenger seat, burying my face in my hand to hide my mortification. Not that I should have any reason to be mortified… oh wait! My ex's current boyfriend is singing a fucking Taylor Swift song in my brother's fucking car. Cloud's steely gaze occasionally drifts from me, to the rearview mirror and back again. I can see it in his expression. _What the fuck, Naminé?_

I flush angrily, shrugging my shoulders. The brunet leans back in his seat, smiling stupidly as the song booms in the car.

"Ain't nothin' more important than the mula! Hallelujah! _Hallelujah_! Praise God!" Sora bursts out, jumping in his seat. "Oh! There! My house is there!" He yells over the music, making Cloud brake suddenly.

The brunet gathers his things, jostling the car as he springs out the side door. He straps his gym bag over his shoulder, walking over to my window.

"Drive." I mutter, as I see Sora tap on the glass.

"Naminé!" I hear his muffled voice and anxious expression. With an annoyed sigh, I roll the window down (with that stupid prehistoric window lever). The blast of the cold air hits my face and I recoil – good thinking too, since the brunet leans in through the window.

"Thanks for the ride, bro!" Sora addresses my brother. Cloud simply grunts in response. The brunet's eyes flicker back to me. "Oh, and um, you think we can keep this between us? Like not mention it to anyone-"

"Won't tell a soul." I deadpan, before rolling up my window. I can see him grin appreciatively before jogging around the car and up the walkway to his fucking two story house. My eyes rake over the house and I notice that Mrs. Highwind put her turkey doormat out. I remember the first time I visiting the HIghwind's house. I threw up on her turkey doormat after a drunken rendezvous at the first of many Sora Highwind parties I attended.

I blink out of my trance when I hear the gears of the car shift. Cloud drives away the next second.

The remainder of the drive is completed in silence, leaving me to ponder Sora's motives. Was he really just a moron looking for a friend? Or was Kairi scheming something?

Cloud pulled up into the driveway. He turned the keys in the ignition, putting the monster to rest. My hand reached for the door handle when I heard Cloud scoff.

"Pathetic."

I pull my hand away and turn in my seat. His cold blue eyes are glaring straight ahead. His hands are tightly clamped around the steering wheel, knuckles white. He clenches and unclenches his jaw which suddenly leaves me uneasy.

"Huh?" I stammer out. His lips curl, until he's baring his teeth.

"_Pathetic_." He repeats.

"Who?"

He shakes his head a fraction of an inch, throwing his door open and jumping out of the car.

"You."

.

.

I fall against the couch, half laying half sitting, staring at the TV. Cloud takes a seat on the other side of the couch, as we both wait for dinner to be ready. Some infomercial about life insurance for old people flickers on the screen. My eyes watch the screen but my head is swimming with the ridiculous conversations that plagued me today.

Roxas Lockhart drifts into my subconscious, as does the question. A date. Psh okay. Yeah, like I'm going to on a date with a potential enemy. He's pushing his boundaries way too fucking much. And I'll tell him the next time I see his stupid blond head.

Speaking of enemies, for the life of me I still can't understand Sora Highwind's fucking motive in approaching me for the first time in months. Now he decides to be all friendly and charismatic?

It seems suspicious. Both seem suspicious. And both seem to derive from the same source. Kairi fucking Lockhart. I swear sometimes this stress will never leave me.

_Sora just wants a friend._

Yeah, and I'm the most secure person in the entire world.

_Maybe Roxas can fix that._

Um, yeah maybe, um, maybe _shut the fuck up_!

Great, now I'm arguing with my subconscious. I groan, burying deeper into the sofa as I glare at the TV screen.

I peer over at Cloud, who's staring intensely down at his phone. You know, just completely disregarding his baby sister's internal conflict. As if (finally) hearing my thoughts, his eyes lift up to meet mine. The same steely gaze graces his expression. He clenches his jaw and turns away.

I've seen that reaction too many times to count. It roughly translates to: 'You're stupid', 'you've done something stupid', or 'I can't believe I'm related to your stupidity'.

I want to say something intelligent. I want to say something to defend myself, to demand why he was being so critical as of late but the sound of the doorbell ringing stops me. Actually, it's just an excuse not to do any of the aforementioned things. I'm too much of coward when it comes to my brother.

"Naminé, could you get the door?" My mother yells over the sizzling in the kitchen. I sigh, rising from my position on the couch and head for the front door.

Kairi Lockhart, clad in pea coat and scarf, stands shivering on my doorstep. The first instinct is to slam the door as fast and as hard as I can before she makes any kind of move, but then –

"Sweetie, who's at the door?" My mother's voice rings from the kitchen. Still, neither Kairi or I make a move. I watch the redhead as she shivers on the spot, with a narrowed glare.

"Is this a bad time?" She questions nervously, eyes darting around me.

Every time is a bad time.

Her eyebrows furrow together, teeth clattering. As if that's going to make me want to invite her in. I hate the small part of me that still wants to.

"Can I come-"

"Why are you here?" I interrupt before she finishes her question. Kairi's voice quiets. Her fucking hopeful expression melts. She breathes out a small quivering sigh. I can see her breath form a cloud from the cold temperature. And then I kind of start to feel bad.

"I told myself I wanted to help you with school, but", she hesitates, averting her eyes. Her face suddenly looks pink, and I'm not sure if it's because of the cold or something else. Regardless, it makes my stomach lurch uncomfortably. "I think my intention was just to see you."

The initial reaction – butterflies – only lasts about a good five seconds before the anger kicks in.

I open my mouth to retort, but before I can, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, Kairi, come in, come in, you must be freezing." My mother, my own flesh and blood, pulls me aside to invite my enemy inside our home. I don't even try to hide the nasty glare I shoot her.

Traitor, I think angrily, as my mother hugs the redhead.

"It's been such a long time. What brings you here?"

Kairi hesitates again, before smiling politely.

"Naminé asked me for help in math."

My mom looks shocked.

"She did?" Her eyes flicker from me to Kairi suspiciously. Then a smirk forms on her face. "Well that's very generous of you Kairi. Why don't you stay for dinner as a repayment?"

"I don't think that's a-" I start.

"-Sure, if that's okay." Kairi cuts me off completely.

"Of course it's okay, Kairi."

.

.

It's probably one of the most interesting dinners we've had in a very long time. And I don't mean this in a good way. My mother looks like she's having doubts of whether to be chipper or angry. Cloud looks just about ready to drive his fork down the redhead's throat. My oblivious father, on the other hand, has never looked fucking happier. It's probably because we haven't' had a guest for dinner since – well – Kairi.

"How's school?" My father questions excitedly.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

"It's going well." Kairi answers attentively. "I've been thinking of starting a club, but it's just a little idea."

My father leans forward, interest piqued.

"Oh really? What kind of club?"

The cheerleader's eyes flicker towards me for a second, before focusing back on my father. She smiles politely.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Oh, well, that's too bad. You probably should get to thinking if you want that club established before graduation."

I roll my eyes.

"Actually, um, I still have another year to go." She corrects awkwardly. My father looks confused briefly and then proceeds to smile goofily.

"Right, right. I keep forgetting." He laughs it off good naturedly. All the while, I find myself sinking further into my seat, trying desperately to ignore the chitter chatter between the two.

.

.

After dinner, the both of us find ourselves in my room, which is one of the stupidest places to be at right now… especially with her.

"I'm sorry for intruding like this. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Kairi looks around my room as subtly as she can, but I know in her head she's comparing the differences. She had been quite acquainted with it in the past

Her eyes flicker towards the bed, studying the sheets; I still had the same sheets.

"Should we do it in here then?"

"What?" I sputter out, feeling my face boil. Her face flushes, when she realizes her accidental insinuation.

"Math. I mean should we do that here?" She corrects quickly, fidgeting with the scarf around her neck. It's distracting.

"Huh?" I question stupidly.

_Stop being an idiot, Naminé!_

I give my head a good shake, turning my confused expression into a cold glare.

"You're not here to do math. You said so yourself. So why don't you just say what you want to say and get out." I demand callously. The cheerleader's eyes study me incredulously. Her mouth opens and then closes, seeming at a loss for words, before she turns around.

She remains with her back faced to me for what seems like a long while. It doesn't hit me at first that she's facing my open closet door, staring at a shitload of photos with her face crossed out.

It's so fucking irritating how guilty I begin to feel.

"Sorr…" I stop myself, shaking my head. Really, what do I have to be sorry about?

"You've done a lot of redecorating." She states simply. Then she turns around, and I can see her eyes watering. I feel my chest ache horribly at the sight.

"Don't do that." I mutter out weakly.

"I'm sorry," she stammers out the apology.

"Just stop." Breathing starts to get laborious.

I stay quiet, watching the redhead brush her eyes as subtly as she can. She lets out a quivering breath, and straightens.

"I don't know the words to tell you how sorry I am." She says. "If I could take it back, if I you'll let me make it up to you-"

"Don't you get it?" It comes as an outburst. Her straightened posture shrinks as her composure crumbles away. "You're just – you're making this a lot harder than it has to be. You showing up at my doorstep out of the fucking blue as an excuse to see me? When did I ever give you the smallest hint that I want you here? I don't _want_ to have to see you more than I have to."

She visibly recoils as if I had physically walked across the room and slapped her.

"I just wanted to fix things between us-"

"-Don't."

It's quiet for a very long time before I hear her intake a sharp breath. Her blue eyes pour into mine with a force that leaves me slightly breathless. It makes my chest twist, my lungs shrink, and a horrible trickle of dread icing down my body.

"Okay." She utters in a low voice.

I swallow thickly, holding my defensive stance. My hand curls into itself tightly.

"Okay?"

"If you want me to leave you alone," Kairi hesitates. "I'll leave you alone."

The urge to say something shouldn't surprise me but it does. I hate her. I should hate her guts for what she did. For deceiving and abandoning me. For all those summer nights I cried myself to sleep. For making my life a fucking living hell.

At my lack of response, the redhead steps closer. "I really hoped that we could've been at least friends."

It takes a while for me to respond because I suddenly begin to laugh derisively.

"Look at you, you're a cheerleader and I'm a loser." I pause to let out another chuckle and wipe my eyes. "We are _never_ going to be friends."

Her expression washes over with bitterness at the irony of my words. She smiles a humorless, wan smile that doesn't reach her eyes. For some reason it bothers the hell out of me more than her stupid polite smiles.

"Okay," she repeats. Her smile falters, her body trembles, and it looks like she's on the verge of tears again. My stomach flops sickeningly. I don't want to see it. I don't want to see her cry because I'm not entirely sure how I'd react. And I'd absolutely loathe myself if I try comforting her. "But, please know that I am incredibly sorry for what I did."

"Just tell me why." I snap.

"I-I… it's complicated." She murmurs shakily.

"Well then _uncomplicate_ it." I snarl. She averts her teary eyes, staring down at my bed again. Her hand comes up to her arm, holding herself defensively. She's stalling, and it pisses me off to no end. I want to strangle the answer out of her. The answer that had me up all fucking night every night over the summer.

She swallows thickly, so loudly that I can hear it from our distance.

"I was scared." She says in a quiet voice. It's such a simple answer, an unsatisfying answer. I think she can see the anger in my face because she quickly wipes her eyes and stands up straighter. "You don't understand-"

"You were scared?" I cut in heatedly. It's more of a statement than an actual question. It's boiling in the pit of my stomach; a volcano just waiting to erupt. My hands curl into tight fists, and my body stiffens. I could slap her, I really could. It burns in me, encourages me to leave some kind of physical mark on her. Some kind of mark that won't even reflect half of the internal scarring she created in me.

The tears in her eyes build up tenfold, as she stares back at me.

"It's a small town, Naminé. People talk." The redhead shrugs her shoulder dejectedly, defeated, helplessly. It's disgusting. It's not enough – the answer isn't enough. And she knows it too because she's giving me this pleading look. This look that just screams at me.

I blink rapidly, feeling the annoying wetness around the rims of my eyes. My throat is heavy, and it hurts like hell.

"I think you should go now." I breathe out. The tension has long ago dropped into this subzero atmosphere. The room is silent, excluding the occasional whip of the wind against the window and her shaky breathing.

There is a sniffle that sounds final, a last shuddering breath and an assured throat clearing. There is no exchange as she slowly walks passed me. Her eyes meet mine for a brief second. She swallows loudly. I can almost hear the knot in her throat. And then she walks away.

My posture shatters the second she closes the door behind her. I can feel my knees shake as I carefully make my way towards the bed.

My face burns with a mixture of anger and humiliation. My eyes glaze over with the unshed tears I forced back in her presence. The anger flames hotter than anything I have ever felt for her before. The anguish just stings.

_It has to stop. I can't take this anymore. It has to stop._

I reach up and wipe my eyes furiously. My hands search the bed until they land on my phone. With a swipe, I unlock it and proceed to scroll through my contacts until my fingers reach that name.

Quickly, I type out a message and…send. A heavy,, shaky sigh escapes my lips once the phone displays the confirmation

My phone vibrates continuously, giving away the fact that it's call not a text. My thumb slides over the call button, and I answer with a tired, "Hello."

"Hi, so that message? Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?"

I breathe deeply through my nose to keep from saying something mean.

"Yes."

I hear a happy chuckle from the other line.

"Cool! So I'll give you the details about the date tomorrow." Roxas exclaims.

"Okay."

My shoulders sag in relief as I hang up the phone. My chest feels heavy, despite lying down against the bed. My hands feel around inside my bag and pull out the book I checked out from the library earlier today, flipping to a dog-eared page.

.

.

**Thus, the triangle of love begins. Or does it?**

**Cyber cookies for people who can guess the songs Sora sings (even if the first one is really obvious).**

**Quote from Romeo and Juliet (obvi!). Act II Scene 2, if I'm not mistaken. Correct me if I'm wrong.**

** Reviews are loooooooooooooved! (P.S. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback. You guys are the best!)**


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